


Head of A Woman

by TheKingParrot



Category: Outlander & Related Fandoms, Outlander (TV), Outlander Series - Diana Gabaldon
Genre: Angst, Art History, Gen, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-11
Updated: 2018-11-13
Packaged: 2019-07-10 23:34:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 20
Words: 34,930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15959945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheKingParrot/pseuds/TheKingParrot
Summary: While visiting Paris, Jamie Fraser goes on an unexpected excursion.  This fic is principally based on the Outlander series, but is also influenced by the movie Midnight in Paris, the art work of Pablo Picasso and Tamara de Lempicka, and a range of other artists.The fic begins in 2006, just prior to the Global Financial Crisis.  It is mainly set in Paris and Scotland, and there is more than a little angst involved.I would like to thank @thebrochtuarachs.tmblr.com (aka minstreltroubadour) for agreeing to beta this fic, and for her moral support for my very first work.





	1. Paris is full of surprises

 

Jamie Fraser was delighted when Dunsany Investments, a venture capital company, had agreed to lend his business the funds they needed for an expansion.  

 

The distillery he had founded with his partner and godfather, Murtagh, had been successful in Edinburgh for the past four years. They had agreed that setting up a retail outlet near the Glasgow School of Art, a prime tourist area, would diversify the business and attract a new clientele. Unfortunately, they had plenty of assets but were caught up in the “cash trap”, that is they suddenly didn’t have much.

 

Just a few weeks after receiving the loan agreement in principle, he was surprised to receive an invitation to an exclusive gathering in Paris. Geneva Dunsany, one of the directors of Dunsany Investments, had contacted him personally to let him know that a select group of business people would be meeting to talk about investments in the tourism industry and Paris in spring was deemed to be the perfect location and time.

 

Jamie had some reservations about Geneva. She was an ostentatious, flirtatious woman who was a little too self-assured for his liking. But he accepted the invitation as the terms of the loan they had negotiated were so favourable and the final contract had yet to be signed.

 

Murtagh, now in his 70s, had no interest in leaving Edinburgh unless it was to travel elsewhere in Scotland. He was happy to remain in charge of their growing team of workers while Jamie represented the business. As Jamie left for the airport, Murtagh urged him to “no’ come back with any of those fancy French ideas, unless they resembled a bottle of French cognac”.  Since Jamie’s father, Brian, had died four years earlier, Murtagh had become even more of a father figure to him and he had always taken his advice to heart. He had known Jamie all his life, and he was loyal to a fault[and Jamie couldn’t be more grateful.

 

When Jamie arrived at the hotel in Paris, he checked in at reception and was given a key to his room. His bags were whisked off by a bellhop as he heard a flamboyant Geneva approach him from the bar.

 

“ _ James, darling!  _ How wonderful to see you. I’ve  _ so  _ looked forward to spending time with you.”  She threw her arms around his neck, kissing him on both cheeks.  “Come to the bar and meet the others”, she said taking him by the arm.

 

In the bar, he was introduced to Isobel, Geneva’s sister, and several associates from Dunsany Investments. 

 

“Are the others yet to arrive?”, asked Jamie looking around. Over all, they were only six people.

 

“Oh, this is it darling.  As I said, a select group and I so much prefer to keep it  _ intimate,  _ James.” 

 

Isobel was looking a little uncomfortable and Jamie was feeling much the same way. 

Geneva had organised for them all to dine in the hotel. The food was superb and the alcohol was flowing freely and by 11:00PM, everyone was looking a bit frazzled.  

 

Jamie was the first to bid everyone goodnight and headed to his room, which was on the sixth floor. He unlocked the door to find himself in a large suite and thought Dunsany Investments were being generous with the accommodation. The bedroom was huge with a king bed, soft lighting and an ensuite spa. He began to unpack his bags before noticing a collection of matching luggage on the other side of the bed and checked the tags on the bags:  _ Geneva Dunsany, Dunsany Investments, Bond Street, London. _

 

Jamie began debating with himself.  _ Was this a mistake, or did Geneva plan this?  _ His answer came a moment later when a key turned in the door and Geneva appeared.  She kicked off her shoes, removed her jewellery and headed towards Jamie. Within a second, Jamie knew that he had fallen victim to her honeytrap. The financial agreement with Dunsany Investments was not yet finalised and Geneva had no qualms about using her money and position to get what she wanted.

 

_ Him. _

 

Thinking on his feet, Jamie turned his back on Geneva and lifted the phone by the bed to call reception.  “Och, I think there’s been a mistake. The room they gave me appears to have been double booked and I’ll be needing a vacant room of my own.”

 

Before Jamie could even dial, Geneva pulled out the cord. She was accustomed to getting what she wanted, when she wanted it. He had no wish at all to linger with Geneva, whose mood and persistence seemed thoroughly dangerous.

 

“I want you to come to bed with me”, Geneva demanded, moving closer and running her hand down Jamie’s arm.

 

“You’ve lost your mind, or I should think ye had if ye had one to lose”, Jamie replied moving away.

 

“How dare you speak that way to me”, Geneva screamed.

 

“How dare you speak that way to  _ me”,  _ Jamie replied hotly.

 

She glared at him, chin set. Her chin was little and pointed, and with anexpression of determination on her face, Jamie thought she looked a great deal like the bloody-minded vixen she was.

 

“If you don’t, I’ll see to it that you don’t get the funds you need for your business. Not from Dunsany Investments or anyone else.”  She reached into her bag and pulled out the final contract, still unsigned. “My father is the CEO, and if I tell him to pull out of this agreement, he will.”

 

“Ye filthy wee bitch!”  He thought he might be sick on the spot.

 

Jamie thought flight was preferable to a fight. So, he grabbed his jacket and luggage and headed for the door.  “Come back here  _ now _ ”, Geneva demanded.  

 

He slammed the door behind him.

 

When Jamie got to reception, he discovered that the hotel was fully booked. Paris in Spring was a peak tourist period. He asked that his bags be put into storage until a room became vacant the following day. Putting on his jacket, he headed into the street going somewhere far from Geneva.

 

Jamie roamed the streets of Paris. It was beautiful at night. There were bars and cafes open until the wee hours. Added to that, he was a great lover of Art Nouveau architecture, a reason he and Murtaugh wanted to set up a tourist enterprise near the Glasgow School of Art and like his father, he also took an interest in vintage cars, music and movies. 

 

As he continued roaming the streets, he admired the  _ Le Style Metro  _ signs designed by Hector Guimard, the beautiful leadlight glass in some of the buildings which lit up at night. He passed the Hotel Regina Louvre, a beautiful hotel in the heart of Paris, and then headed down an old laneway. Not really thinking where he was going, it wasn’t long before he realised he was lost.  

 

As the church clock struck midnight, a vintage car approached him. He recognised it as a Peugeot La Berline 202. It was in immaculate condition. The car slowed as it stopped in front of him and he asked in his reasonable French if they could take him to the Hotel Regina Louvre. He knew he could find his way back from there.

 

The rear door of the Peugeot opened and the occupants beckoned him in. He decided to take the risk as they looked so debonair and friendly. He was only in the car for a few minutes when he nodded off to sleep.

 

He had no idea how long he’d been in the vehicle when it pulled up outside the hotel. There was clearly a party well underway, and the car’s occupants signalled to him to join them. With nowhere else to go, he followed them into the banquet room.  

 

There on the stage was Edith Piaf, singing  _ La Vie en Rose.  _ Standing by the bar, listening and drinking their cocktails were Humphrey Bogart and Lauren Bacall.

 

Jamie stumbled to the closest wall and leaned against it, shocked at the scene before him.  A woman placed her hand on his arm to support him and asked in a cultured British voice “Are you unwell? May I help you? I’m a nurse.”


	2. We are both outlanders

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In Chapter 1, Jamie took an unexpected excursion to Paris - from 2006 to 1946. The story continues.
> 
> Once again, my thanks go to @thebrochtuarachs (aka minstreltroubadour) for her advice and editing. It is thanks to her that the chapter is more streamlined. A good beta reader is better than sliced bread.

  
The woman held Jamie’s arm as she pulled a chair toward him and beckoned him to sit down. Even seated, she noticed how tall he was. She placed two fingers on his wrist and counted under her breath.

 

“Your pulse rate is quite normal but I would prefer if you remain seated for a few minutes, Mr…?”

 

“Fraser. James Fraser.”

 

“Claire. Claire Beauchamp. I’m the hotel nurse, Mr. Fraser.”

 

She was beautiful, he thought. Her eyes were the colour of a well-matured scotch whisky – whisky aged in an ex-sherry cask which usually takes on a darker, more amber appearance. 

 

The deep brown velvet dress she wore accentuated her eyes, showing off her figure and brown curls with gold tints. She had sensuous lips, which he felt drawn to as she smiled.

 

“Does the hotel nurse normally wear such a flattering uniform, Sassenach?”, he asked with a mischievous grin.

 

“Well, Mr Fraser, I may be an outlander here but so are you”, she teased back.

 

“Ah, so ye know the meaning of Sassenach?”

 

“I was a combat nurse in the British Army, Mr Fraser and I met a great many soldiers from Scotland. ‘Sassenach’ was one of the many names they used when I was treating their wounds. In fact, it was one of the nicer ones.”

 

“Please, call me Jamie. Ye were a combat nurse? In France? Ye must be made of strong stuff, Claire.  People losing limbs, their sight and the like. How did ye cope?”

 

“I saw things I hope I never see again, Jamie.  It’s one reason I became a hotel nurse.”

 

“Well, Claire, thank ye for taking care of me. Can I trouble ye to tell me what the date is?”

 

“The date? April the 15 th 1946.” She scrunched her eyes but thought nothing more of it.

 

  1. How on earth could he be sitting on a chair in an art nouveau hotel in Paris in 1946? He had travelled back 60 years in a vintage car?



 

“And what are Bogart and Bacall doing here?” he asked.

 

“Their new movie,  _ The Big Sleep,  _ has just opened in Paris. Post-war Paris takes any opportunity to celebrate the return to normality. The hotel is doing all it can to attract the rich and famous back to its rooms after a long period of gloom.”

 

Claire finished checking Jamie’s health and now, she indulged herself in checking Jamie out. He was so handsome, she thought. He was looking around, taking in the wonderful surroundings like it was the first time he was seeing everything and she watched his marine blue eyes scan the room. She wanted to dive into them and run her hands through his beautiful russet curls. Realising she was staring, she blushed and looked away for a moment.

 

“Would you like to meet Miss Bacall, Jamie? I helped her with her hay fever yesterday, and she was kind enough to give me this dress in thanks. She is just gorgeous.”

 

“Really?  Well, I’d like that verra much, Claire.”

 

Claire took Jamie by the hand and led him through the noisy crowd. He discovered for himself the smoky, sexual growl that Bacall was famous for. She, in turn, told him that she loved his accent but couldn’t understand most of what he was saying.

 

He and Claire were still holding hands when the lights went down and Piaf came to the stage to sing  _ Non, je ne regrette rien. _ Jamie looked over at Claire’s face as Piaf sang.  A tear fell on her cheek, and he wiped it away with his thumb. 

 

“Are ye alright, Sassenach?”, he whispered.

 

“Memories, Jamie”, she replied.

 

He squeezed her hand, and she then held his hand with both of hers. He felt so drawn to her. She was beautiful but also so real and unaffected. Was she just a dream?  A figment of his imagination?

 

When Piaf had finished, the crowd burst into applause and cheers. Claire released Jamie’s hand to applaud, and immediately felt his hand move to the small of her back instead. She moved closer to him in response. The crowd began to disperse after Piaf’s final song but Claire and Jamie remained close.

 

“Jamie, would you like to see the hotel gardens?” Claire asked after a while of comfortable companionable silence.

 

“Will ye be coming with me?”

 

“Yes” she smiled.

 

The gardens were subtly lit and it being spring, the scent of jasmine was extremely pleasant and heavy.  They walked through the gardens hand in hand until Jamie stopped and pulled Claire towards him.

 

“Christ Claire. I met you an hour ago and I have strong feelings for ye already. I’ve never felt this way with anyone before.” Jamie hoped she wouldn’t mind his forwardness but everything about tonight had been unreal and he didn’t want to miss his chances. Claire was a rare woman and he wanted her. 

 

“I feel the same way, Jamie.  What it is between us … well, it isn’t usual.” She clasped her hands at the back of his neck to hold him to her, silently thankful that he felt the same as her about their meeting tonight.

 

“I would verra much like to kiss you. May I?”

 

“Yes” said Claire.

 

The moment their lips met, there was a frisson of delight and passion. What started as a tentative kiss, developed into a minute of excited exploration. Neither of them wanted to stop but eventually, they broke in a gasp for air and had to settle to touched foreheads to keep their intense connection. They took a moment to compose themselves and it was Jamie who spoke first.

 

“I’ve so much I need to tell you, Claire. So much I want to know about ye. Can I meet you here tomorrow night? Do you wish to see me again?” he asked somewhat shyly despite the kissing they’d just done.

 

“Yes and yes, Jamie Fraser. It’s a date.”

 

They walked slowly back to the banquet room where Claire was asked to help with a highly intoxicated guest. She looked back to Jamie in bidding him farewell for the night. “I’m looking forward to tomorrow already.”

 

“And I” replied Jamie.

 

Jamie walked to the front of the hotel looking back at Claire several times. Within five minutes, the gold Peugeot appeared again and the driver beckoned him in.  

 

Once again, Jamie nodded off to sleep and woke as the vehicle stopped at the same point he had begun the midnight journey. He strolled slowly through the streets of Paris reflecting on what he had just seen and heard. He had just travelled through time and ended up in the most fascinating place and met people he had once just heard of and seen before in pictures. But mostly, he thought of Claire and the sense of excitement she had evoked in him.  

 

Jamie considered what he wanted to tell her the next day. He thought about how would she react if he told her a full account of his life in the 21st century. Would she believe him or would it convince her that he was mentally unstable?

  
Back at the hotel, the night receptionist told him that a guest had booked out to catch an earlier flight, and that the night staff could have the room cleaned and ready for him in 30 minutes.  When he received word the room was prepared, he took his bags up in the lift and settled on the bed.  He ran through some lines and more thoughts in his head until 3am when sleep took over his exhausted mind and body.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 'The Big Sleep' is a 1946 film noir directed by Howard Hawks, and the original film version of Raymond Chandler's 1939 novel of the same name. The film stars Humphrey Bogart as private detective Philip Marlowe and Lauren Bacall as Vivian Rutledge in a story about a criminal investigation. The chemistry between Bogart and Bacall was legendary.


	3. Changes in time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jamie returns to 1946 and the feelings he has for Claire, and she for him, intensify.
> 
> Enhancements to my original draft provided by the inimitable @thebrochtuarachs (aka minstreltroubadour). I seem to be saying "thank you" on a regular basis, but I am truly grateful.
> 
> Picasso completed a number of works named Head of A Woman. The 1946 drawing referred to in this fic can be viewed at: https://www.reproduction-gallery.com/oil-painting/1461566285/head-of-a-woman-1946-by-pablo-picasso/

 

It was already 10am by the time Jamie awoke and he had called room service for breakfast. He was not keen to see Geneva again but he needed to find out the status of his business’ loan before he left and thought it better that he approach Isobel instead. He was walking towards her room when the door opened.

 

Isobel must’ve sensed or knew what Jamie was at. “James, let’s go to the hotel library to speak”, Isobel suggested.

 

“Aye. Good idea”, he replied.

 

They moved to the corner of the library and took up leather chairs facing one another.

 

“James, I spoke to our father last night and explained the situation to him. He has asked me to apologise to you and assured me that your loan will proceed. He will speak to Geneva about her inappropriate behaviour when we return. He loves Geneva, but he is aware of her…persistence” Isobel began. “I will be handling your account from this point on and you will not be required to negotiate with or discuss any aspects of it with Geneva. I hope you find that reassuring.”

 

“My thanks, Isobel. That’s kind o’ ye and I appreciate that this is a wee bit difficult for you” Jamie replied.

 

“I haven’t spoken to Geneva about this yet, but I will …”

 

At that point, Jamie and Isobel heard high heels on the tiled floor and Geneva appeared, looking livid.

 

“So, you two are plotting against me now, is that it? Isobel, I just got a call from Daddy telling me that you are to be given a number of important accounts which were previously handled by me, including the Frasers. This is your fault, James Fraser.  You led me on and …”

 

“Stop it, Geneva”, Isobel hissed.  “You are making a fool of yourself and us. You and I will speak about this in private.” 

 

But Geneva wasn’t finished. “I’m not stupid, Jamie. I saw the way you looked at me when we first met and now you’re trying to use me to get what you want.”

 

“You’ll not use that name to me.” It was Jamie’s turn to talk back .  “I’ll not have you call me by the name my family give me. To you, my name is James.”

 

Jamie rose from the chair, thanked Isobel for her help and headed for the door. There was no point in trying to reason with Geneva and he wanted to prevent the situation from escalating.

 

He headed directly for the main entrance of the hotel and walked along the street, putting distance between himself and the warring sisters. Once he had gone some distance, he slowed and took in the beauty of Paris.  

 

He sat and enjoyed a coffee in a sidewalk café, admired the architecture and investigated the windows of antique shops. At one of these, he saw the most beautiful piece of jewellery and he knew who it be perfect for. 

 

One of the single most important techniques by Art Nouveau designers was enamelling, often known as  _ Plique a’jour.  _ The effect is likened to that of stained glass. His eyes rested on a leaf ring by Rene Lalique and a butterfly brooch by Vever - they were wonderful examples of this technique. They were very expensive items but the store agreed on a slightly lower price since he was buying both pieces. He didn’t want to impress Claire with the cost but he did want to give her something that showed how much he cared for her. He was still reeling from the effect she had on him but he had no doubt about his feelings for her.

 

The shop owner wrapped the jewellery in a gift box and Jamie left the store, placing the box in his jacket pocket.

As the night came, Jamie left the hotel and made his way to the point at which he had been picked up the night before. As the clock struck midnight, the Peugeot appeared, slowed down, and once again he climbed into the rear seat. He dozed awhile and woke to find himself back in 1946.

 

The vehicle dropped him in the same location. He all but ran into the hotel where Claire was employed and found her in the foyer, drinking a cocktail with a distinguished looking woman. 

 

“Jamie!” he heard Claire call as soon as she saw him walking towards her. “I’d like you to meet a friend of mine. Tamara, this is my very good friend, James Fraser. Jamie, this is Tamara de Lempicka. Tamara is an artist who currently lives in the hotel and has her own studio close by, and she has asked me to sit for a piece she is planning.”

 

Tamara looked at Jamie once over with interested eyes then turned back to Claire with a sly smile. It wasn't lost on Jamie and he felt a small pride that he passed some silent test by her friend .  Tamara then added casually, “The piece is to be called  _ Amethyst,  _ because amethyst stones have  healing properties that rid negative energy. After the horrors of the war, there is a lot of negative energy to be driven away, Jamie. But I must leave you two now, as I promised to join my husband for supper. I will see you tomorrow, Claire.” 

 

Once Tamara was out of sight, Jamie drew to Claire, kissing her as he held her close. It went for a little while until both of them were breathless. Not wanting to break their connection, Claire kept a hold on Jamie as she settled her hands at the back of his neck, keeping their foreheads close. “Come up to my room, Jamie. I have some cognac and chocolates for us there.”

 

They walked through a labyrinth of corridors to the back of the hotel where there was a glorious, old antique lift. Claire’s room was on the very top floor where most of the hotel staff had living quarters. She opened the door to her room and Jamie entered the small apartment.  

 

Small it may have been, but Claire had decorated it beautifully.  Her glass-fronted bookcase contained rows of leather bound books, some small objects d’art, a collection of essential oils and some ornate photo frames with photos from her past.  There was an eclectic mix of furniture, candles and wall lights that provided subtle lighting. On the walls were a collection of art works. A small corner fireplace held a gas heater. Burgundy velvet curtains in the far corner separated her double cast iron bed from the living area. There was a tiny galley kitchen and a small bathroom.

 

Jamie was interested in the collection of books, which showed that Claire’s interests ranged from art and architecture to medicine and zoology. Her favourite authors of fiction ranged from Dickens to Hemingway.  His eyes, then, moved to the artwork on her walls.

 

“Claire, this drawing is signed by Picasso. Is it genuine?”

 

Claire replied without looking at him as she arranged the treats she’d prepared them, “Yes, he was suffering from pneumonia earlier this year and didn’t want to go into a hospital, so he moved into the hotel with his mistress, Francoise. The doctor visited daily and I nursed him. The drawing was his way of thanking me. He called it  _ Head of a Woman. _ I cherish it.”

 

“Is it true that he was quick with the lasses? Did he pursue ye, Sassenach?” Jamie asked without hint of jealousy, just pure curiosity. 

 

“His reputation was well-founded, but he was sick and Francoise was very attentive.  Perhaps I was fortunate” she laughed.

 

“A man would have to be sick not to try it on with ye, Claire.” She looked a little embarrassed, blushing and then looking away.

 

Jamie saw her turn red and worried that he was coming on too strong. Despite his intense feelings, they only met each other yesterday. He needed to find solid ground again and he scrambled his brain to find a neutral topic.

 

“Tell me about your family?” He asked casually but by the way her face fell, Jamie knew he missed the mark. “Ah, dhia. I’m sorry, Claire. Ye dinna have to talk about it…”

 

Claire smiled and squeezed his arm as a show of support. Jamie was trying to connect with her and she was so genuinely moved by his clumsy attempt that she couldn’t help but open up to him.  “My own parents died when I was just five years old, in a road accident. The pain lessens, and you learn to live with it, but it never disappears altogether.” Then, she held him close and felt the heat of his body next to hers. He kissed her gently on the forehead. “And then there was my husband, Frank. He died behind enemy lines in the war. I hadn’t seen him for two years when I received a telegram telling me he had been taken captive and died in a German POW camp. Frank was an intelligence officer, so I know very little about the circumstances. His mission was very hush-hush. I felt so far removed from it all, but I know I was one of many who lost those close to them.”

 

“I’m so verra sorry, Claire. It must have been very hard to know so little of where and how he died”.

 

“It was, but life goes on. You continue to live because that’s what they would have wanted.”

 

“I ken what you are saying.  When my mother died my Da lost a piece of himself, but he carried on for me and Jenny, my sister. Her art studio was like a shrine to her. He left everything just as it was on the day she left us. Then he died four years ago.”

 

Claire could see the hurt in Jamie’s eyes.  His shoulders had slumped, and he turned toward the window to compose himself. She moved toward him, running her arms around his waist. He turned to face her, and she reached up to kiss him.  “What were their names, Jamie?”

 

“Ellen MacKenzie Fraser and Brian Fraser”, he whispered.

 

After that, Claire and Jamie settled for light conversation for the next several hours, just talking and getting to know each other. Their likes, dislikes, their passions, and what they found in each other was a sense of rightness and compatibility. As the night went on and the alcohol and chocolates have been consumed, both were feeling a little brave and on the edge. 

 

“Jamie, yesterday you said you would very much like to kiss me and asked my permission.” Claire spoke first, looking directly into Jamie’s blue eyes.

 

“Aye, I did.”

 

“Jamie, I’ve only ever made love to one man but I have never felt the way I did when you kissed me. I felt so alive I couldn’t sleep. I have thought about you all day and now I want to know if you would like to make love to me.”

 

He smiled and drew her close, “More than anything else I’ve ever wanted in my life”. The passionate kiss they shared had them both trembling with anticipation.

 

He slowly undid the buttons running down the front of her dress, slipping it from her shoulders and gasping at the sight of her ivory breasts. Taking advantage of Jamie’s intense stare, she unbuttoned his shirt and circled his body, removing the shirt along the way and touching the skin on his back, shoulders and stomach. His nerve endings tingled under her touch. Once she stood in front of him again, he lifted her tenderly and carried her to the bed, where he removed her lace panties. She was laid bare to him and he wanted to do the same. As he moved towards the belt of his trousers, she knelt on the bed, “No, I want to do that.”

 

She undid his belt and pushed his trousers to the floor. He was erect and his heart was racing as she ran her fingers up his length. There was no more waiting to be done as they were both burning with desire and need of each other. He gently laid her back on the bed and she parted her legs wide.

 

“Do you want me, Jamie?” Claire’s breathing was heavy with anticipation. 

 

“God, yes” Jamie replied and thrust himself into her.

 

It felt like they were engaged in a choreographed ballet. Their bodies moved as one, perfectly attuned to one another. One of his hands focussed on her breasts while the other drew her towards him. She held his buttocks tight and drew him into her whilst kissing his shoulders and neck.

 

“Give me your mouth, Sassenach” he cried as they drew to a climax. Their passionate kiss coincided perfectly with their simultaneous peak. After a while, he pulled out and they lay facing one another, their skin flushed and their smiles wide.

 

“God Claire, ye are perfect. The two of us together feels so … natural.” Jamie said and they laughed softly together and then were quiet, listening to each other breathe.

 

“Jamie, I don’t think I’ve ever been so happy”, Claire whispered.

 

“I ken, Sassenach. It’s the same for me.”

 

They lay peacefully, hands occasionally reaching to the other to make contact.

 

“Shall we celebrate with more cognac and chocolates?”, Claire asked.

 

“Aye, celebrations are in order”, he replied.

 

Claire slipped from the bed to the small kitchen. Jamie raised his body on one arm and watched her slender, naked body move as she poured the cognac and unwrapped the chocolates.

 

“Claire, ye’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen”. 

 

“Then your eyes may need testing, Jamie Fraser.”

 

“There’s nothing amiss with my sight. Ye have the most perfect arse and your skin is like white velvet.”

 

Claire returned, popping a chocolate liqueur in Jamie’s mouth and following it with a kiss. She was about to pass him his cognac when she looked down and saw that he was already aroused.

 

“Jamie, you can’t be – so soon!”, she laughed.

 

“’Tis all your fault, Sassenach. You’re a temptress. Come here.”

 

He downed his cognac and felt how wet she was between her legs. Her nipples were erect and her body was drawn to his like a magnet.

 

“It seems I’m not the only one who is wanting”, he laughed. He caressed her, laid her on her back and lifted her legs by the ankles then drove home, both gasping and calling out for more.

 

 


	4. Amethyst / Snogging in yer undies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jamie and Claire spend a few days together in Paris. My dear beta (@thebrochtuarachs aka minstreltroubadour) suggested I post these two chapters simultaneously, hence the hybrid title. I agreed on the proviso that she familiarise herself with the tale of The Three Little Pigs. You'll see why later.
> 
> I hope these links will work.  
> Amethyst by Tamara de Lempicka: https://www.wikiart.org/en/tamara-de-lempicka/amethyst-1946  
> Henri Vever brooch: https://musetouch.org/?p=14705  
> Rene Lalique ring: https://www.pinterest.com.au/pin/1055599886314942/?lp=true

When the first rays of sun woke Claire the following morning, she felt Jamie’s arm across her body and his hand holding her breast. His body was wrapped around hers, one leg between hers, his face was half covered by her curls but she could see his beautiful smile over her shoulder. They were tangled and connected in every way and she clicked a mental picture in her brain for remembrance.

She moved slowly on to her back, hoping not to wake him. For several minutes she lay there, looking lovingly at his soft lips and his long eyelashes - he was a beautiful man for whom she had developed strong feelings in such a short time. It had been years since she had felt the tender touch of a man, not because no one wanted to because there were a lot but Claire doesn’t just give herself to anybody and since they met, she wanted to give herself totally to Jamie.

She slipped out of the bed and wrapped herself in a silk gown. She crept several doors down the corridor to the staff breakfast room and grabbed four warm croissants, some butter and strawberry jam and a jug of milk. She went back into her apartment and lit the gas stove to make coffee. 

The sound of the boiling kettle woke Jamie and just as he opened his eyes, Claire put down their food on her night stand, removed the silk gown and moved over to the bed. Her lips kissed his, her hand running down his cheek and on to his neck. Jamie, in return, grabbed her round the waist and rolled her on top of him.

“Were ye planning on taking advantage of me, Sassenach?”

“Absolutely. I have no shame. Stay there and I’ll bring your breakfast to you.”

Claire brought their croissants to the bed on a shared plate. As she ate, strawberry jam fell on to her breasts. Jamie slipped down the bed and licked the jam from her body, Claire giggling and pulling his hair. Suddenly, more strawberry jam was falling making Jamie remark. “Dinna waste food, Sassenach” which earned him a laugh and a half-hearted apology. After licking all the jam from her, Jamie rested his head on her chest.

“Claire, I wanted ye from the moment I saw ye but I loved ye when ye shed a tear at the singing of Piaf. Ye looked so beautiful, so vulnerable. My heart melted.”

Claire was quiet for a moment, then Jamie felt her tears falling on his head. “What is it, Sassenach? Are ye alright?”

She moved his chin up towards her face, kissing him tenderly on the lips. “I’m so very happy, Jamie. With you, I can just be who I am. It sounds so simple yet is so rare. After the horrors of the war, seeing so much death and maiming, I felt hardened. I saw young men, away from home for the first time, suffering from gonorrhoea or syphilis, or shot or shrapnel wounds. I’m not sure what was worse. I felt I’d almost become cold and unfeeling but you’ve unlocked that part of me and I feel so liberated.”

They took a few minutes to hold one another, kissing and touching. Eventually, Claire spoke. “I have to meet Tamara for our first sitting. Tamara is known as the Baroness with a Brush, and has a lot of wealthy friends and contacts, so my boss has given me a few hours. Would you like to come too?”

“Aye. I hope you’ll be wearing nothing and I can watch your breasts move as ye breathe.”

Jamie already realized that he had missed the Peugeot’s return to the 21st century in the wee hours. He wanted to spend every second with Claire and how could he resist a chance to see the work of a 20th century artist as famous as Tamara? He would stay with Claire until the early hours of the following morning, savouring every moment.

Claire laughed loudly. “I think there’s a very good chance I’ll be wearing very little, you bloody Scot. At least it’s not as cold as your country. When I’ve finished today’s sitting, you can warm me up with a bit of your favourite exercise.” 

He grabbed her waist. “Is that a promise, Sassenach?”

They showered together, taking turns to massage one another with soap. Claire discovered sharing a shower with a large Scotsman was a claustrophobic experience, but one she’d be happy to repeat every day for the rest of her life. They dressed, finished their coffee and headed for Tamara’s studio.

Tamara had a clear vision of the work she was beginning. She draped Claire in a long, striped length of fabric which covered one breast and left the other exposed - much to Jamie’s delight. Her hair was swept back and a strong light shone on her making her skin almost translucent. And then Tamara handed Claire a guitar to finish the picture. 

Jamie sat on the floor in the corner of the studio, his back resting on a wall and his arms crossed. He was happy to just be near Claire and realized that he had never really felt as relaxed with any woman he had been in a relationship with. 

There had been a few, like Laoghaire, that he could only take in small doses. That relationship hadn’t lasted long. Mary had been pleasant enough but she was quite dull and meek. Claire was a strong woman, interested in others but also very clear about what she liked and disliked. She was also open, kind and sensitive. After just a few days with her, he felt he knew and loved her as he might a woman he had known for years. Maybe this was what people meant by a soul mate or love at first sight.

He watched and listened as she and Tamara exchanged stories and anecdotes about the war and the joy of being free of it. Tamara’s native country, Poland, had suffered greatly and although she and her husband were now based in America, they shared a great love of France and spent months there at a time.

Tamara planned to be in Paris until autumn - or the fall as the Americans called it - and would then return to New York. This work, Amethyst, was one of three she hoped to complete before that time. Claire would be sitting for her several times a week. After a few hours, Tamara had done a rough outline of the work. They chatted over a hot drink and then left the studio. 

Back in Claire’s apartment, she held Jamie to his promise to warm her before she began work in the hotel. Having slowly undressed one another, he laid her down on her stomach on the bed, her arms outstretched above her. He was covering her with his body. She felt his hot breath against the back of her neck and she gasped as he slowly entered her, teasing her by withdrawing and then thrusting back into her. Her muffled gasps accompanied each withdrawal and re-entry until she felt him fill her. They lay there for a moment, savouring each other’s warm bodies.

“I love those wee noises ye make, mo nighean donn”, Jamie whispered.

“I think you’re calling me something in Gaelic. What does it mean?” Claire gasped.

“It means my brown-haired lass, and right now there is much of that hair in my face, just as I like it.”

.

Jamie pulled to one side, allowing Claire to turn and face him. When she noticed the clock, she grunted. “Jamie, I have to go to work. How can I leave you when I know your naked body will be here while I’m not?”

Jamie smiled. “Will ye be able to go if I promise ye that I will dress now and ye can undress me this evening? Provided, of course, that I can undress ye and cause ye to make those wee noises again tonight?”

“Hmm. That does make it sound more bearable”. She reached over to kiss him.

“Promise?”

“I promise, Claire.”

Claire dragged herself from the bed and dressed ready for work. “It’s a date, James Fraser.” 

With that, she left Jamie alone in her apartment.

When Claire returned to her apartment after work, she was carrying a basket of food prepared by the hotel’s kitchen. Fresh bread, butter, pate, assorted meats and cheeses, olives, tomatoes and a range of desserts. On the door was a sign, “Knock before entering”. What was Jamie up to? She smiled and knocked. “Little pig, little pig, let me come in.”

There was a laugh from within: “No’ by the hair on my chinny, chin chin. Just a moment, Sassenach.”

Less than a minute later, Jamie opened the door and she peeked in. The curtains were drawn and the lights were out. In the darkness, the room was only lit by a semicircle of candles arranged on a low table and two pillows had been placed on the floor. Jamie closed the door and kissed Claire on her cheek.

“Welcome home, mo chridhe. I missed ye. Come and sit here.” Claire laid her basket on the floor and sat on one pillow, Jamie sitting on the other.

“What are you plotting, Jamie Fraser?” she asked as she made herself more comfortable on the floor.

“I have a wee gift for ye. I hope ye’ll be liking it.” Jamie handed her the box and sat back while she slowly opened it.

“Oh Jamie, these are beautiful! Is this ring a Rene Lalique?” Claire said enthusiastically as she stared at her new gifts.

“Aye, he’s one of my favourite designers and when in France, do as the French do.”

“I love Lalique too. I don’t know what to say …” and then she began to cry.

“Claire, what’s wrong?” Jamie knew she’d appreciate the gift but he didn’t expect her to cry. Nonetheless, he found it adorable.

“Nothing, absolutely nothing. It’s so perfect, you’re so perfect. I don’t want this night to ever end. I just want to be here – with you, forever.”

Jamie crawled over to her (no small feat for a very tall Scot who is close to tears) and held her head to his chest. “I just want to be here with ye tonight. What’s in yer wee basket?”

Claire wiped her eyes: “Oh, I brought us enough food so we could eat here alone. There’s a tablecloth too.”

“First things first”, he said. “We must put this ring on ye”. He slipped the ring on her finger and kissed it. “And put this brooch in yer bookcase.” He stood and placed the Vever brooch on the shelf with her other art works, then returned to his place beside her.

“Now, I promised ye we could undress one another when ye arrived from work.”

“Yes you did.”

“Then better start stripping down and eat this spread before we devour one another.”

She laughed, sniffed and shed a last tear simultaneously and then they ate, resting against one another wearing almost nothing. They regularly stopped eating to kiss and fondle one another.

“Why on earth would anyone want to go to a fancy restaurant when they could sit at home on the floor eating, drinking, snogging and touching one another up?”, she laughed as she opened a bottle of wine and handed a glass to Jamie.

“Why indeed, Sassenach. I canna think of a place I’d rather be”, said Jamie slapping her playfully on her perfect arse. “I think I’ll be spreading my dessert on your body and lick it off.”

“Which part of my body?”

“All of it”, he replied, approaching her with a bowl of trifle.

After several hours and several glasses of wine, Jamie moved to sit as he held Claire’s hands between his, pulling her up with him. “Claire, I need to talk to you about something important.”

“Should I be worried?”, she asked with a frown as he felt her tense and panic.

“No, dinna fash. It’s just that I have a business in Scotland and I need to get back there and sort out some things with my partner, Murtagh. I want to tie up some ends so that I can get back to ye and we can plan what we want to do,” Jamie said hastily, reassuring her. “Claire, I dinna want to go but I will get back soon.”

“I’ve got everything I need right here, right now and I do understand that you have to go Jamie, but …”

“But what?”

“But I’ve lost so many important people in my life. I’ve seen so much sadness. I would really just like a happy ever after.”

“And ye shall have one, Claire, when I return.”

There was a sureness in Jamie’s voice that made Claire brave to believe. It was unusual and different what was between them - heck, they’d only met but two days! - but it felt good and it felt right - they felt right.

Claire raised a hand to caress Jamie’s cheek and uttered the three words she’d promised herself to only say to someone she really, honestly and genuinely felt everything with.

“I love you.” Claire said without hesitation as she stared deep into Jamie’s blue eyes.

“And I love ye.” came Jamie’s immediate and clear reply.

“Always?”

“Always.”

Claire flashed Jamie the biggest smile and he thought he’d break by just feeling so much love for the woman in front of him. He’d been in love with her since the moment he saw her and it brought him much pleasure to know that she felt the same as him.

He closed the distance between them, their lips touching once again, as her hand moved up to grab his curls pulling him closer to her. The kiss went sweet and long, both satisfied with just tasting each other this way.

Reluctantly pulling away by the virtue of needing oxygen, Claire broke the silence and asked Jamie a question. “And Jamie, what does mo chride mean?”

It must mean something good as she felt Jamie’s face broaden with a smile. “Mo chride,” he repeated. “It means ‘My heart’.”

As the night wore on, they finished their food, drank all the wine and eventually found their way to the bed. They laid there talking of their ambitions and wishes. Claire talked of her longing to continue on to study medicine. Jamie told her about his distillery and how he planned to build it up with Murtagh. He also talked of his sister Jenny, his friend and brother-in-law, Ian, and their bairns. He described his childhood home of Lallybroch, his horses and their stables.

Soon, they found themselves drawing to each other, falling into a synchronized rhythm of togetherness. When they melted into one another, fondling, and making love “like the horses”, it felt as natural as breathing.

They both drifted into sleep. When Jamie woke at about 3:00am, he slipped quietly from the bed and got dressed. He kissed Claire tenderly on her lips and her beautiful eyes opened. “You have to go now?” she asked, her head whipping around groggily looking for a clock to check the time.

“Aye, mo nighean donn. Sleep on and I’ll be back with ye as soon as I can. I love ye, Claire Beauchamp.”

“And I you, Jamie Fraser.”

He quietly left Claire’s apartment. Claire cried herself back to sleep while Jamie felt a strong urge to return to her bed and remain there forever. Their feelings were real - but so were their real-life obligations.

As before, the gold Peugeot appeared at its usual spot and when Jamie woke up, he found himself back in Paris in the early hours of the morning in 2006.


	5. Wrong time, wrong place

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One word: angst.
> 
> Thanks: @thebrochtuarachs (minstreltroubadour) for picking up my bloopers.
> 
> Disclaimer: I'm not medically trained so forgive me if I look like Doctor Google.

Jamie was preoccupied with what he needed to do to get back to Claire. He was also unaware that the 2006 Labour Protests in France had resulted in parts of Paris being shut off to prevent demonstrations as there was heated debate and anger about the proposed new laws. The route he had previously taken to get back to the hotel was blocked to traffic and pedestrians and he was forced to take a different route.

When he turned to the poorly lit laneway, he was merely concerned with getting to the hotel. There was a sudden noise and then, he felt a breath escape from him. It felt like his life was leaving his body, as if he were paralysed by this intense tingling, like a severe electric shock. The heat was intense like nothing he’d ever experienced. Then he felt something warm flowing down his leg and realised it was blood - his blood - from a deep gash going from his groin downward. His immediate reaction was to hold the area to reduce the blood loss but the pain was penetrating and he passed out in a pool of blood.

A young couple walking home found him in the street and called to the police at the road block to get an ambulance. Meanwhile, the couple removed their scarves and jackets and wrapped Jamie in them to stem the flow of blood. The ambulance, nearby in case of an outbreak of violence, was on the scene in moments.

On arrival at the hospital, he was treated by an emergency team. Their work was hampered by the lack of any ID. Whoever had attacked him had taken everything. While the police were distracted by the riots, robbers were attacking lone travellers for cash and valuables. Jamie, simply, had been in the wrong place at the wrong time.

It took hours to stabilize Jamie, largely due to the blood loss and the extent of the wound which had nicked the femoral artery. The doctors, then, began with irrigation and rinsing the wound with a sterile solution before cleaning it to remove bacteria and debris. The wound was deep so general anaesthetic was needed to repair damaged tissue. The surgeon closed the wound using sutures and monitored Jamie’s heart and blood pressure. He was treated with intravenous (IV) fluids, antibiotics and a blood transfusion, with mild sedation to restrict movement. 

Jamie lost his perception of time. He was in and out of sleep as his body responded to and healed from the trauma inflicted on it. Eventually, he woke to see three people by his bed. On one side was Isobel Dunsany and on the other his godfather and uncle, Murtagh and his sister, Jenny. He looked beyond them. “Claire? Where is Claire?”

The three visitors looked at one another, confused as none of them knew who Claire was. It was Jenny who spoke first. “Brother, ye have suffered a serious injury. Murtagh and I flew over directly when Isobel called to say ye had been found.”

“Found? Ye’ll need to tell me what yer talking of”.

“James, when you didn’t return to the hotel for days, I contacted the police in search of you. When you were brought to the hospital, you had no ID but I gave the police a description and Jenny sent a recent photo by SMS. Eventually, they found you here and I just picked up Jenny and Murtagh from the airport this morning. You’ve been here for over a week after being stabbed”, Isobel explained.

It was Murtagh who asked, “Jamie lad, who is this Claire ye speak of? How can we contact her and let her know where ye are?”

“Ye canna, Murtagh. Ye canna.” As Jamie became agitated, Jenny called for a nurse. It was suggested that only one person sit quietly with Jamie until he settled down. Question and answer sessions could wait.

Murtagh offered to sit with Jamie while Isobel and Jenny went for a coffee and to get details on Jamie’s injuries and rehabilitation. Jamie settled down and although drowsy told his godfather, “I canna explain Claire to Jenny. She willna stop asking questions I canna answer. I’ll need ye to help me when I’m better, Murtagh. I canna lose Claire but ye canna contact her. I’ll need ye to shield me from my sister’s interrogations.”

“Whatever you need, Jamie. There is a trust between us, you ken that.”

“Aye, I do and I thank ye for it Murtagh.”

With that, Jamie dipped into sleep under Murtagh’s watchful eye.

An hour later, Isobel and Jenny returned. Isobel bade Jamie farewell, telling him she would keep in touch and to let her know of any help she could give. She was heading back to England the following evening. 

Jenny gave a brief account of what the doctors told her. Jamie would need to remain in the hospital for at least another week or until it was possible to transport him back to Scotland. He would need a few months of recuperation, including monitoring of the wound, physiotherapy and scans to see how his body was recovering. Rest and gentle exercise would be essential to his recuperation and healing. Four to five months of rest and rehab was the best possible scenario.

Jamie lay in the bed, his mind screaming at his body. Every day he spent in this bed was another day away from Claire. What would she think? That he wasn’t returning? That he didn’t care? He couldn’t write, ring, text or email her. Of course, she didn’t know that contacting her was impossible. He hadn’t explained all that to her for fear she would think him a raving loony. 

His mind was working overtime, his body wasn’t. 

He was trapped.

Aware that Jamie needed time and patience, Murtagh offered to stay in Paris indefinitely. “Jenny, ye have bairns and the farm to consider. I can contact ye at least once a day so ye ken what’s happening. We have a team of people who can take care of the distillery. Rupert kens what to do. I’ll see to it that I get an interpreter if need be.”

Reluctant as she was, Jenny knew that Murtagh was right. If the need arose, she or Ian could fly to Paris in a few hours. With Jenny gone, Jamie slowly came to share his story with the man who was like a second father and had known him all his life.

Jamie and Murtagh discovered there is no such thing as a simple stab wound - and the deeper the wound, the more extensive the damage.

“No major stab wound will completely heal on a normal human”, the surgeon told them. In Jamie’s case, the doctors warned there would be scar tissue and the possibility of permanent pain and impaired muscle function. He was fortunate that there had been no damage to his organs. Rehabilitation for his damaged muscles was likely to take months due to the depth of the wound. Had he not been found so quickly, he may have bled to death.

Jamie was not the best patient. In his hurry to recuperate, he sometimes placed too much pressure on his injured leg and was warned this would slow his recovery. Jenny had left an iPad and arranged for a wifi connection at the hospital, so Jamie and Murtagh would FaceTime Rupert to talk about the distillery, and Jenny for updates on the family. 

He was restricted by drips, checks of his blood pressure, blood tests and a multitude of visits by doctors. The police questioned him several times, but there was little he could tell them. His attacker had been swift, accurate and obscured in the dark laneway.

Rather than give Murtagh a full account of his journey back to 1946, Jamie told him snippets of information. Murtagh didn’t question anything beyond what Jamie told him - as incredible as it sounded. At the end of each day, he would return to his hotel room and jot down what Jamie had told him to see if his story was consistent and to make sense of what he had heard. After several weeks, he had a handful of names and details he hoped to piece together. He kept this to himself as Jamie asked.

A month later the doctors agreed that Jamie could return to Scotland under certain conditions. He was to be airlifted to the Royal Edinburgh Infirmary, where he would be monitored and transferred to rehabilitation for physiotherapy, gentle exercise and rest.

After delays, the day before the air lift Jamie’s patience had been sorely tested. “Christ Murtagh, I swear these doctors are keeping me for research” Jamie complained  
.  
“These medics have kept ye alive, you clotheid. Quit yer moaning.”

“As usual, yer caring nature is underwhelming”, Jamie grinned. “Nah, I appreciate all ye’ve done, Murtagh. I’d have gone mad without ye. I need to be back in Paris as soon as possible though or Claire will kill me no’ kiss me.”

“Ye ken that means you need to cooperate, Jamie. Push too hard and you’ll go backward. You’re no good to the lass in a coffin. Stop tapping those fingers or I’ll have them surgically removed lad.”

Finally, the day of the airlift came. Jamie was wheeled into the plane, Murtagh behind him with their luggage. Instructions had been emailed to Edinburgh, where Jenny and the family were waiting to greet them. Jamie appreciated the welcome he received but was impatient to get back on a plane to Paris – and Claire. His nieces and nephews had to be physically restrained as they were so used to being boisterous with him. Not having seen him since the stabbing, Ian was shocked to see his weight loss and no sign of his usual smile.

“The lad has suffered trauma and a deal of pain”, Murtagh told him. “Give him some time and dinna fash. He’ll be fine.” In truth, Murtagh wasn’t convinced by his own assertion. He had seen Jamie become agitated and irritable, only managing restless sleep and losing interest in things that usually fascinated him. He was going to keep a close eye on Jamie. This was about more than a stab wound.

As the weeks went by, Jamie managed to walk with the help of a frame and later a walking stick. His recovery was slowed by a pseudoaneurysm - a leakage of arterial blood from an artery into the surrounding tissue - linked to the original nick in the artery. He was frustrated and everyone knew about it.

It was almost five months from the day of the stabbing before Jamie was given clearance to return to work. He had last seen Claire in mid-April, and it was now September. His relationship with Jenny was strained as he continued to shut down and pine for Claire. However, his sister was determined to find him “a kind lass” who would care for him and produce Fraser heirs. The last straw for Jamie was when she tried to resurrect his relationship with Laoghaire. The argument that followed was volatile, even by Fraser standards, with him accusing her of being an “interfering besom” and she calling him “a stubborn bastard”. Murtagh did his best to ward Jenny off, but his vow of secrecy meant he couldn’t say much.

Eventually, Jamie got medical clearance to fly to Paris, much to the surprise of everyone except Murtagh. 

“Why the hell do ye want to go back to the place where you were damn near killed?”, shouted Jenny. “Ye’re an idiot, Jamie Fraser!”

“I’m going to face my demons, Janet. Shut it!”

“I’ll go with the lad if it settles you, Jenny”, Murtagh told her.

“I thank ye for that, Murtagh, but I still think my brother’s a crazy man.”

So, in the last week of September, Jamie and Murtagh boarded a flight in Edinburgh and headed for Paris. Jamie was as tense as a cat on a hot tin roof. Would Claire be too angry to see him? Or would she welcome him back? His mind was racing, even if his body couldn’t.


	6. Disbelief

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After suffering a serious knife attack, Jamie has recovered sufficiently to return to Claire in 1946. 
> 
> Two words: More angst
> 
> Thanks: to @thebrochtuarachs (aka minstreltroubadour) for being my wonderful beta

 

After he and Murtagh had booked into the hotel, his godfather urged Jamie to get some sleep. He was planning to return to the past and Claire that night, so he was conserving energy.

Murtagh used a local map to locate the laneway where Jamie was stabbed and the other places he had jotted down in his notes from Jamie’s recollections. He was feeling anxious about Jamie’s return. He said little about his concerns to Jamie, who was already uneasy. He had seen Jamie teeter on depression in the past few months and he knew there was a chance this wouldn’t work out. Murtagh was glad to be there if that happened.

In the late evening, he and Jamie ate at a local café and had a few wines to calm the nerves. “Do ye want me to walk with ye to the point where ye hope to get picked up, Jamie?”, Murtagh asked. “I think this is something I need to do on my own, Murtagh, but my thanks to you for the offer and all ye’ve done.” “Jamie, you know I wish ye well but be ready for things to be strained between ye. Claire may need some time to accept what ye have to tell her.” “Aye, you’re right but I have to believe this will work. I’ve spent five months working up to this and thinking of her has been everything. I canna bear the alternative.”

Jamie left more than ample time to walk to the pick-up point. Bidding Murtagh farewell, he took his walking stick and walked at a comfortable pace. He let out a breath of relief when the gold Peugeot arrived and picked him up at the usual time. Relaxing into the vehicle, he nodded off and woke to find himself outside the hotel and back to the past.

He climbed out of the vehicle slowly, his nerves on edge and excitement building. He cast his eyes around the lobby without success – no sign of Claire. The hotel was abuzz with activity, so he decided to surprise Claire in her room. It was late, so she could be off duty.

He had walked the corridors to the staff lift hundreds of times in his imagination. Nothing had changed, and he took the lift to the top floor. He could see light under the door of Claire’s room – she was almost certainly there. His leg was sore and his hand was shaking as he gently knocked on the door. He could hear movement in the small apartment. Jamie smiled as the door opened, but the woman facing him looked puzzled.

“Who are you, monsieur? This is not a guest room. The staff live on this floor.”

“I’m sorry mademoiselle. I am looking for Claire Beauchamp. Has she moved rooms? Where might I find her?”

“Miss Beauchamp? I think you need to see the hotel manager. I’m sorry, I can’t help you”, the woman replied and closed the door.

Jamie was confused and upset. He headed down to the ground floor in the lift and went to reception. 

“Excuse me. May I please see the manager?” he asked. 

“May I tell him who wishes to see him?” 

“My name is James Fraser. I was here some months ago.” 

“Please wait a moment, Mr. Fraser.” The receptionist went into the manager’s office and returned a few minutes later, followed by the manager, who asked Jamie to see him in his office. 

“Mr. Fraser, please take a seat. How might I help you?” he asked. 

Jamie sat down, resting his walking stick against the manager’s desk. 

“I was at the hotel five months ago and I befriended a member of your staff, Miss Claire Beauchamp. I came to the hotel in the hope I might talk to her about a personal matter. Can you tell me if she is on duty please?” 

The manager reached to a shelf next to his desk. “Mr Fraser, Miss Beauchamp no longer works at the hotel. However, she left a parcel for you in the event you returned.” 

The manager pushed the parcel across the desk. Jamie’s heart was beating fast, a sweat appearing on his brow. His chest hurt and as usual, he could feel a pain in his leg. 

“Sir, if Miss Beauchamp is no longer here where might I find her?” 

I can only suggest you open the parcel, Mr. Fraser.” the manager said apologetically. The manager leaned across the desk, offering Jamie a letter opener to remove the paper and tape securing the parcel. Once again, Jamie’s hand was shaking as he unwrapped the parcel. There was a note taped to the box inside. He opened it quickly, anxious to see if there was an address where he would find Claire. 

The message was short and simple: “My darling Jamie, if you are reading this then you have returned. I could not wait for you any longer. Please know that I will always love you with all my heart. Je ne regrette rien. Claire.” 

Jamie jumped from the chair, hurting his leg as he bore his full weight on it. He was still wielding the letter opener and the manager pushed back from his desk, wearing a look of alarm. 

“Where the hell is she? Where is Claire?” he demanded, his voice a little more aggressive than he intended. 

“Mr. Fraser, please calm down. Sit down and I will get you a drink. Whisky?” 

“I dinna want a drink. I need to see Claire – now!” 

An angry James Fraser was a formidable sight. His height, combined with his broad shoulders and fiery hair, was overwhelming when he was angry. 

“Mr. Fraser, please sit down or I will call security.” 

Jamie fell back in the chair, holding his leg and gasping for air. The door to the office opened and a few staff looked in. 

The manager waved them away, “I will call you if you are needed”, he ordered them. 

Jamie ran his hand over his face and into his hair. 

“I’m sorry, sir. I have come a long way to see Miss Beauchamp. I apologise for my behaviour. Now, can you please tell me where she is?” 

“Mr. Fraser, Miss Beauchamp left the hotel some weeks ago. She has moved to London with her new husband.” 

For a moment, Jamie’s heart and world stopped. 

“Claire is married?” Jamie gagged on the words. 

“She was married in Paris and has left for London with her husband. I am sorry. This has obviously come as a great shock to you. I will ask the staff to bring you a drink. Would you like to sit here for a few minutes?” 

Jamie couldn’t answer. 

He sat there in shock. 

After a few minutes he reached for the box she had left and removed the lid. 

She had left Picasso’s Head of a Woman, which she cherished. Then he cried uncontrollably. 

_________ 

Murtagh lay in his hotel bed in Paris. The clock ticked over to 3:07AM. Jamie had left him at 11:40PM the night before. 3 hours and 27 minutes had passed and he hadn’t slept a wink. 

He had been reminiscing about the past. He held a particularly strong vision of the day Jamie was born. Ellen was sitting up in bed, supported by numerous plumped up pillows, holding the new bairn in her arms. Brian stood to one side, the broadest smile decorating his proud face. To the other side was a little Jenny, doing her utmost to get close to her mother and her new “brudder”. Willie was skipping around the room in delight at having a baby brother. Minutes later, Brian had asked if he would be godfather to the tiny James Alexander Malcolm MacKenzie Fraser. 

“’Twould be an honour, provided I can memorise his name” he had replied. 

Ellen had never looked more beautiful and Murtagh felt a tug to his heart. Brian Fraser was a lucky man. 

He was relishing that memory when the bloody hotel bar fridge buzzed into action yet again. The most annoying sound he had heard all night and he had heard all of them. He was hypervigilant. 

He had deliberately booked a two bedroom apartment so that he could keep an eye on Jamie during this visit and he doubted he would sleep. 

He was surprised to hear the key card swipe in the lock of the apartment. He had assumed Jamie would be gone much longer. He heard something land on the sofa table, heard the door of that bloody annoying fridge open and then close with a thump. 

He climbed out of bed and looked into the living area. Jamie was sitting in the leather armchair, his elbows on his knees and his face looking down. One empty spirit container (it looked like whisky) had been thrown to the floor and he was opening a second container. 

Earlier, Jamie had left him looking quietly optimistic - this Jamie looked devastated. His eyes were puffy, his shoulders slumped. 

Murtagh bravely asked “So, how did it go lad?” 

“She’s gone.” 

“Gone where?” “She’s in London” Jamie replied. 

“Do you think you might be able to go there and find the lass, Jamie?” 

“No point”. Jamie’s brief responses were interspersed with swigs from the spirit bottles. 

“Jamie, come to the point.” 

“She’s married, Murtagh. Claire is married and she’s living in London with her new husband. They married in Paris and then left for London some weeks ago. 

Her apartment at the hotel is empty and she is gone. I was too late. 

Have a wee look in the box she left for me.” 

Murtagh moved over to the sofa table. He gingerly opened the box Jamie had thrown on the table when he arrived back. He looked at the note Claire had left and inside the box. 

“Christ Jamie, is this a genuine Picasso?” 

“Aye, she nursed him when he had pneumonia and he drew it as a way of thanking her.” He took another swig. 

“So, it seems I have a Picasso but not the woman who posed for it. The woman I planned to …” He broke down. 

“Christ Murtagh, the only woman I ever loved and I’ve lost her. I canna take it in. The past five months she’s been in my mind every moment, and now she’s gone.” 

Murtagh was lost for words. He had seen the pain Jamie had felt when his brother Willie died, but this was somehow worse. Knowing that she was still alive but he couldn’t be with her seemed to have been even more devastating than losing the brother he loved to a premature death. 

“What do you want to do, Jamie? What now?” 

“Back to Scotland, Murtagh. I hope to never see Paris again.” 

“When do ye want to leave lad?” 

“Now, or as soon as we can get on a flight.” 

“I’ll get on to it now, Jamie. We canna enjoy the place after this. I understand.” 

Murtagh headed for the bedroom to pack. As he opened the bedroom door, Jamie spoke, 

“I’m sorry Murtagh. I didna allow myself to think through all the possibilities. It was like being hit by a truck, and a big one at that. I’m glad you were here. I wouldna want to have come back to an empty room.” 

“I’m sorry too, lad. I’m happy to have been here for ye but I wish it could’ve been a better outcome. I dinna know what to say.” 

At that, Jamie rose from the chair and, bottle in hand, embraced his godfather. 

“I just canna believe it, Murtagh. The last five months have been a nightmare and I canna see where it will end.” 

“It will improve, Jamie, but it’s gonna take a long time. Ye have family and friends who will be there for you. We just have to work out what to tell them. We canna tell them you fell in love with a woman born nearly a century ago, eh?” 

“Aye. Thank God I can share it with ye Murtagh. I feel like I’m going mad right now.” 

The two men finished off the rest of the spirits in the mini bar, packed their bags and jumped in a taxi as the sun rose over Paris. They agreed to go to the airport and get on the first available flight to Edinburgh, regardless of which airline. By 9AM, they had landed in Scotland, collected their luggage and headed home. 

Jamie kept the Picasso with him at all times. It was all he had left of Claire and his dreams.


	7. Who do you think you are?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jamie and Murtagh are back in Scotland. Murtagh decides to be a detective.
> 
> Reference is made to Charles Rennie Mackintosh, a Scottish architect, designer, water colourist and artist in this chapter. He is well known for the "Mackintosh rose" (as shown in the collage). He and his wife, Margaret Macdonald Mackintosh, were active in the Glasgow art scene in the early twentieth century. Reference is also made to Eric Bloodaxe, a Viking warrior illustrated in the collage.
> 
> As always, thanks to @thebrochtuarachs (minstreltroubadour on AO3) for her help and support.

 

 

When Jamie and Murtagh got back to Scotland Jenny was full of questions for Jamie. “Christ, woman. It’s the like the fucking Spanish Inquisition. Would ye just let it rest? I told ye, I went back to Paris to face my demons.”

“Yes brother, indeed ye did. But you were back little more than 24 hours later. Was there just the one demon then?”

“Look Janet …” The moment Jamie called her Janet, Ian knew they were in for a Fraser standoff. He and Murtagh looked at one another, stood up and left the living room as the siblings raised their voices and the argument got into full swing

“Let’s go for a wee walk, Murtagh”, Ian suggested. “We’ll take the bairns up to the stables so they dinna have to hear their mother and nunkie killing one another.”

Murtagh was keen to get Ian on side. Given the lifetime of friendship Ian and Jamie shared, he knew it wouldn’t be too difficult.

“Ian, Jamie hasna had a good year and he doesna need Jenny making it any worse. The visit to Paris was a disaster, so when Jamie told me he just wanted to get back I didna argue. Can you talk to Jenny? See if you can get it through her thick skull that Jamie needs support, no’ a harpy-come-matchmaker?”

“Murtagh, I wish it was that easy. Jenny prays for Jamie every night. Even if he did find happiness, I don’t think she’d let him have it. She’d find something amiss. The bairns would miss him, but I think the best thing for Jamie is to stay away awhile. Tell him I’ll visit him in Edinburgh or Glasgow, if ye both plan to get the new venture up and running.”

“Aye, words of wisdom Ian Murray. We’ll be heading to Glasgow in the next ten days. Jamie contacted the architects before we left for Paris. The drawings have been on the table for months. Let’s hope he can get on wi’ his life now.”

It wasn’t difficult to get Jamie away from Lallybroch. He and Jenny had cussed at one another for 24 hours and Murtagh was keen to get back to the business. It was a week later that he and Jamie headed to Glasgow. The loan from Dunsany Investments had been sitting in the bank for a few months and they were both keen to move forward.

**Six months later (March 2007)**

If Murtagh had hoped the Glasgow project would be a constructive way to help Jamie forget, he was mistaken. Jamie did work 18-hour days on the design and construction of the project, but he was fractious and argumentative most of the time.

The workmen at the site referred to him as _Thistle Arse_ (as in you’d think he had a thistle stuck up there) and _Caber_ (as in Tosser). Despite working through an exceptionally cold winter, however, the project was ahead of schedule. The distillery and tourist viewing areas were ready to operate, the custom designed bottles and labels were in production, the catering area was close to completion and all would be in full swing by the peak tourist season. Jamie still wasn’t happy.

Jamie’s obsession was with the quality of the finish to his apartment, which was located above the distillery. The converted warehouse was a masterpiece of design, but Jamie wasn’t happy with the quality of the fittings. He found fault with everything and everyone. He was particularly focussed on the large study/office which looked over to the Glasgow School of Art. He wanted it to pass for an authentic Charles Rennie Mackintosh fit out, like that of The Hill House in Helensburgh. He had even commissioned a furniture maker to make a suite of furniture inspired by the Mackintosh rose design. Costs were blowing out, but he refused to listen.

Only Murtagh understood the extent of the heartache Jamie was suffering. He had a lightbulb moment when watching one of his favourite shows, _Who Do You Think You Are?_ with Rupert one evening. The two men were sharing a few beers and Rupert was waxing lyrical about The Fox (Emilia Fox from the cast of Silent Witness) who was the subject of this episode.

“I think I might get one of those DNA tests, Rupert”, Murtagh suddenly said. “Why would ye waste yer money on that, Murtagh? No doubting yer heritage man.”

“I’d like to ken how much Viking there is in my genes.”

“Why Viking?” “Well, if there’s enough Viking I might spend a weekend raping and pillaging.”

“Aye, that’s a plan. I could help ye.” “Well Rupert, you can be in charge of pillaging.” “And what’ll ye be doing?”

“The rest”, Murtagh replied. “Where can ye get one of those DNA tests done?”

Rupert knew all about it: “Take a look at ancestry.com Murtagh. I’ll get my laptop from my car and show ye.”

Rupert toddled off to get his laptop. Murtagh smiled smugly – that’s exactly what he had wanted Rupert to do, but he didn’t want to reveal why he had this sudden interest in genealogy. Rupert returned, opened another bottle of beer and sat at the dining table with Murtagh to his side.

“It’s dead easy Murtagh. For a search you need some basic information - given name, family name, year of birth, country of birth and that – and then you work through the list and narrow it down by using records of births, deaths, marriages, censuses and the like. Just takes a bit of knowledge and time.”

“Aye, fascinating Rupert. And they organise those DNA tests and that?”

“Look, there’s a special membership offer. Two for the price of one. Yer a tight old bastard, Murtagh. This is yer chance.”

“Aye, sign me up for a membership and a DNA test lad. Looks verra interesting indeed. Eric Bloodaxe and I just might be related. Do ye think you could get that web site up on my old computer lad?”

“Go fetch it and I’ll log ye in now, Murtagh. The membership details are here in an email.”

Rupert logged Murtagh in and ticked the “remember me” box to make it easy for him to use in future. When The Fox and all the beers were finished, Rupert headed home. Murtagh got to work. He got the page of notes he had taken listing everything Jamie had told him of 1946 while he was lying in his hospital bed in Paris. He entered all the details he had in the database fields, having to leave some empty as he didn’t have everything listed. That done, he clicked on the Search button and looked at the results of his search.

There was only one Claire Beauchamp who fitted all the search criteria he’d entered. He opened her profile and looked at the chronology of her life. Yes, her parents had died when she was young. She had also been married to a Frank who had died in 1944, two years before Jamie met Claire. He continued down the profile and, despite being alone in the room, raised his fists in the air and screamed “Gast' air fad!” to himself. He muttered “Well, well, well”, then he laughed to himself and considered what he might do next.


	8. Flashback (August 1946)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The story returns to August 1946, where Claire has been awaiting Jamie's return.
> 
> Thanks to @thebrochtuarachs (aka minstreltroubadour) for being my sounding board yet again.
> 
> Two characters central to this chapter are included in the collage: the Art Deco artist Tamara de Lempicka and her husband, Baron Raoul Kuffner. The drawing of the Baron is the work of de Lempicka.

 

 

Claire was in the art studio as Tamara de Lempicka did some finishing touches to Amethyst - which Claire had been sitting for.

Tamara looked at Claire with concern but Claire seemed to be unaware of her gaze. Tamara wrapped her brush in a damp cloth and rose.

“Claire, I need a break for coffee. Would you like to join me?”

“Yes, yes thank you”, Claire replied looking as if she’d been woken from a dream.

Tamara brewed the coffee and filled two cups, handing one to Claire.

“Claire, how long have you known?” she asked bluntly.

“Known what?” Claire responded.

“That you are pregnant”

;“Tamara, how could you possibly know that!” Claire looked distraught. Looking down she said quietly, “What gave me away?”

“Claire, you’ve been sitting for me for nearly five months. Your body has changed and the breast you’ve been revealing has grown. Your skin glows even more than previously and your expanding girth is starting to become obvious. Have you spoken to anyone about this? The father?”

Tears sprung to Claire’s eyes. She struggled to speak but had to, eventually wiping away her tears and swallowing hard.

“Do you recall the tall Scot I brought to my first sitting in April?”

Tamara nodded. Now was the time to be a listener, not a commentator.

“I fell in love with him almost instantly and I thought he felt the same. He left for some business in Scotland and told me he’d return to talk about us, but I haven’t seen him since. I have no idea what has happened to him and I just keep telling myself “he’ll come tomorrow”. I didn’t take any precautions because Frank, my late husband, told me that I was unable to have his children. I tried to get pregnant for an entire year when we first married, and when it didn’t happen he went to a doctor friend to have tests on his sperm. He told me he was fine, so I must be the problem. Now, it seems I became pregnant with Jamie’s child immediately. Seems Frank was more concerned with his pride than my fertility. I know it’s crazy but I don’t want to lose this child and I want to believe that he will return before it’s born. Am I crazy, Tamara?”

;“No Claire, you’re not. There could be a hundred reasons why Jamie has not returned but that’s not the point – he hasn’t and you must make your own decisions. Do you have any family to support you with a child?”

“None. I’m an orphan. My darling uncle died just before the war and Frank was the last person I considered family.”

"That makes it very hard, Claire. I have lived in many countries – Poland, Russia, Switzerland, France, America – and I have seen that unmarried mothers have found life difficult in all of them. It’s hard for them and the child. Trying to find someone to care for the child while you work means you would have very little money. You would be very vulnerable. Please, let me help, let me think about it and we’ll talk tomorrow. Do you mind if I discuss this with my husband?”

Claire nodded in agreement, kissing Tamara on the cheek and thanking her for her concern and support. She knew Tamara was married to Baron Raoul Kuffner, a wealthy art collector and a very influential man (hence her nickname _the Baroness with a Brush_ ). She also knew that the staff of the hotel liked him and Tamara.

Claire returned to her small apartment in the hotel and prepared for work. She knew that she couldn’t keep her pregnancy secret for much longer and that she would almost certainly have to leave her job quite soon. If Tamara and the Baron could come up with any solution, she would have to consider it but she had no idea what that might be.

“Jamie, where are you? Why haven’t I heard from you, seen you? I loved you, I trusted you” she said aloud to no one but herself.

Tamara found Claire in the small hotel surgery the following morning. “Claire, can I talk to you now or later?”

“I have a break at midday. Would that be convenient?” she replied.

“Come to our hotel suite on the second floor. I think we might have an idea for you to consider.”

“Tamara, I’m so grateful. Thank you. I’ll see you soon.”

At midday, Claire knocked softly on the door of the Baron and Baroness’ suite and heard Tamara call her in. The Baron approached her, kissing her on both cheeks. “I hope you don’t mind that my wife and I have been discussing your situation. Please know that we genuinely care. Tamara has grown very fond of you and Pablo suggested you as a model saying you were a beautiful woman with integrity.”

“You’re very kind, Baron” Claire replied.

Tamara beckoned Claire to the dining table, “There is a platter of food, wine and coffee on the table, Claire. We are going to be joined for lunch by an English friend who has an apartment in Paris. He should be here in a few minutes. We’ve known him for years. Delightful man, very kind and distinguished. His name is Lord John Grey.”

A few moments later, Tamara opened the door to Lord John. He was a handsome man, very well dressed, polite and immediately friendly. He walked straight to Claire and introduced himself. “Miss Beauchamp, I am delighted to meet you. I’m John Grey. Tamara and Pablo both speak very highly of you.”

“You know of me?” Claire said, surprised.

“Come and sit with us, John. We have a lot of explaining to do” Tamara intervened.

John explained to Claire that he was a businessman whose company dealt in the acquisition, renovation, and sale of prestige property and antiques. He had offices in London and Paris, as well as a home in London’s Knightsbridge and an apartment in Paris. He also had a secret known only to his close circle of friends – he was a homosexual. During the war, the authorities had more pressing matters to consider than homosexual liaisons under the cover of complete blackouts. But now that the war was over, he and many others were in great danger of being discovered and charged with “gross indecency” - a criminal charge which could ruin him.

“I understand your concern, Lord John, and I sympathise with your situation. But I don’t see why you are telling me – virtually a stranger – about your vulnerability” Claire said.

“Well Claire, I’ll come straight to the point. If I were married to a beautiful young woman, particularly one who was pregnant, I would be less likely to be a target of those determined to root out us criminal homosexuals. Sorry, pun not intended. I mean - if it looks like I was the subject of a shotgun wedding because I’d made that beautiful woman pregnant, I could pass off as a virile young stud. But please, this isn’t just about me. In return, I would offer you the security of a beautiful home in London, an apartment in Paris, accounts at the best stores, staff and the best care and schools for your child. Your rooms in those homes would be private and I assure you that any of my, erm…assignations would be in gentlemen’s clubs or carefully chosen hotels.”

“But why me?” Claire asked, looking among the three people in front of her who had somehow found her an unconventional solution.

“Claire, look in the mirror. Despite my homosexuality, I can see how beautiful you are. If you appear on my arm at social occasions, charity events and business dinners, I will be the envy of every man there. Nobody would believe I would stray from you. Photos in the society pages with you will be part of my camouflage. Add to that, I understand you have no family who are likely to question the nature of our relationship. I think we both have a lot to gain from this. But please, this is a lot for you to consider - might I suggest that we dine together for the rest of this week and talk about it. I could hardly expect you to make such a bold decision now”, John said laying out a plan he had been considering for some time.

“Thank you, I appreciate your honesty and consideration. I would like to have time to think that over. It’s quite a shock, yet, remarkably generous.” Claire thanked John and then turned to the Baron and Baronness: “And thank you, Baron and Tamara for being so kind. I really don’t know how to tell you how much I appreciate your concern.” After lunch, John and Claire discussed their next meeting and Claire returned to her job. Her head was abuzz with questions but for the first time in months she had a sense of optimism about the future.

Claire laid awake for hours thinking about Lord John’s offer. It wasn’t just _an_ option – it was _the only_ option she had. She decided to keep an open mind until she had an opportunity to discuss a proviso with John at dinner the next evening.

When her shift at the hotel was finished the following day, she showered and donned the brown velvet dress Miss Bacall had gifted to her. She didn’t have an extensive wardrobe and considered it the only garment she had that was suited to dine with a Lord. Thank goodness she could still fit in to it - just. John had arranged that they have dinner at his apartment, so she could have an opportunity to see one of his two homes. He arranged for his driver to collect her from the hotel. The apartment building in which he lived was an Art Deco design.

“Welcome, Claire. Please come to the dining room” John said guiding her with his arm.

“John, this building is beautiful.”

“Thank you. The designers are friends of mine from London. We began construction before the war and we finally finished it last year.”

“You own the entire building?” Claire was in awe.

“I do. What did you do in the war, Claire?”, John asked, genuinely interested in knowing her better.

“I was a combat nurse for the British Army. My late husband, Frank, worked as an intelligence officer and died behind enemy lines. When the war ended, I decided to remain in Paris and work as a hotel nurse.”

“I’m so sorry, Claire. I hadn’t realised that you had lost your husband. Was he a Beauchamp?”

“No. His name was Frank Randall.” “I don’t think I met him, although I worked in intelligence as well. I was mainly based at Bletchley Park, working with a chap called Alan Turing. Everything was top secret at the time. Brilliant man. Thousands more allied forces would have died without the great mind of Turing. But then again, we don’t want to dwell on that bloody war. Let’s eat.”

The meal was prepared by John’s staff and he served it and the wine. It wasn’t long before Claire was feeling very comfortable with John. Knowing his sexual proclivity allowed her to relax - safe in the knowledge that he was merely seeking a platonic relationship. They chatted about her modelling for Pablo and Tamara, their childhoods and common interests. John was fascinated to hear about her travels to archaeological sites with her Uncle Lamb while John regaled her with stories of his boyhood adventures with Hal, his brother, and the development of his businesses.

“Claire, have you had an opportunity to think about my proposal?” he eventually asked, feeling it the right time.

“I’ve thought of little else, to be honest.” Claire sighed. “There is just one condition I would like to make, if you’re agreeable.”

“Okay, let’s put it on the table” said John looking curious but open to discussion.

“I would like to train as a doctor and I think I may be accepted at the Royal Free or London hospitals. I understand that there are more women being accepted into medicine since the war, although I think being a married woman may make it a bit controversial. How would you feel about that, John?” Claire asked.

John leaned forward and placed his hand over hers. “Claire, compared to being my beard, that sounds pretty tame. My brother lives in Hampstead and has contacts at the Royal Free. I’m sure we’ll sort something out and I think it would be terrific. Lord and Lady-Doctor Grey. Good God, Claire, I’ll be living in your shadow.”

“If your brother has contacts at the Royal Free, I’ll try for the London first. I want to get in on my own merit,” declared Claire.

John threw his head back and laughed.

“Claire darling, I think we’re going to be great friends.” Then he looked at her with a serious but friendly face, “Now, do you think we can make this marriage of convenience work?”

“Yes, I do John. I don’t know how to thank you but I think we can pull this off.”

“So do I, Lady Claire. Let’s do it,” John said. “I’ll get it all organised tomorrow - a small wedding with the Baron and Baroness as witnesses, followed by a meal at the best restaurant in Paris. I’ll send my driver to pick you up and take you to a new fashion house in Paris, so you can select some new designs - chap by the name of Christian Dior. He could use the publicity and he can help you select styles that will suit your current - what shall we call it - expansion.”

“Do I really have to be Lady Claire?” Claire asked.

John did look a little apologetic but he knew the advantages benefitted them in their situation. “Comes with the territory, Claire. You’ll be surprised at the doors it opens and the treatment you get. Sickening at times, but we wouldn’t raise nearly as much at our charity evenings without it. I think you’ll enjoy seeing the difference it makes when we’re raising money for the Great Ormond, the children’s hospital. In fact, having a doctor in the family would give us even more credibility.”

“You do all that too?”

“Like I said, Claire – comes with the territory. Now, back to business. You’ll also need to resign from your job tomorrow. My driver will deliver some boxes, so you can pack up your things. Right after the wedding, we’ll be off to Calais to get to the ferry, then, a drive from Dover to Knightsbridge and we’ll be at your new home.”

“It’s a whirlwind romance, John” Claire said with a cheeky grin.

“Time waits for no man, Claire. We’re going to make a great team, I can tell.”

“Well, thank you again, John.”

“No. Thank you, Claire. I can’t imagine entering into this arrangement with anyone else. Tamara said you were a rare beauty - and she was right.”

Claire left John’s apartment knowing that she had made the right decision. At the same time, she still wondered if Jamie might turn up tomorrow, because she knew that was what she longed for most - her hopes had faded but her feelings for him hadn’t.

 


	9. Back to the future (May 2007)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The plot thickens. Murtagh reveals his findings to Jamie.
> 
> I have always admired Murtagh's loyalty to Jamie and consider it one of the highlights of the early Outlander books.
> 
> @thebrochtuarachs really helped me with transitional passages in this chapter. Thanks aka minstreltroubadour.

 

Murtagh had sought the assistance of a library research service in London to find out more about Claire from the time of her marriage to Lord John. He didn’t want Jamie to know what he had found until he had a folio of detailed information.

At the end of April he travelled down to London on the pretext of talking to tourism operators. When he returned, he went to Jamie’s finished apartment in Glasgow. Jamie’s office/study was now complete and he ushered Murtagh into the large room to show off his pet project. Murtagh was impressed. His eyes focussed on the wall at the end of the room and he walked towards it. Hanging on it, carefully and strategically lit, was Picasso’s _Head of A Woman_.

He turned to see Jamie looking pensive.

“Ye still love the lass, aye?”

“I do. I don’t think that’ll ever change, Murtagh.”

“Do you ever think there might be someone else in the future lad?” Murtagh asked, curious.

“I compare every woman I meet to her but they just don’t come close. Everything was so easy - so right - with her,” Jamie replied honestly.

“Then we’d best sit down and talk about this, Jamie.”

Murtagh took a folder from the satchel he was carrying and sat at the long table Jamie had commissioned, leaning back on the Mackintosh-style high backed chair.

“Jamie, I’ve just returned from London. I had some research done for me and I mean to share it with you. Ye may not like what I have to tell ye at first but hear me out.”

Jamie settled at the right side of his godfather and sat down.

“This is to do with the tourism is it, Murtagh?”

“No, it’s to do with Claire.”

The air seemed to get sucked out in the room with that simple, six-word reply. Murtagh looked at Jamie who was suddenly still as his eyes went unfocused.

“I’m not sure I want to discuss it”, Jamie said low and soft.

“Hear me out” Murtagh repeated.

Murtagh placed the first piece of paper on the table and pushed it towards Jamie. It was the genealogical profile he had printed from _ancestry.com._

“I want you to read this. Start at the top and work down.”

Jamie looked sceptical but did as Murtagh asked. He was aware of the early history of Claire’s life and this was confirmed in the piece of paper he was reading. His eyes moved down the page and he huffed. “She married a Lord?”

“Aye, Jamie. Read on.”

Jamie looked back at the page and his initial uninterested look immediately changed to wide-eyed wonder. “Christ, man! How long have you known this?”

“A month. But I wanted to gather some more information. Look at the name of the bairn, Jamie.”

“Ellen Brianna Grey.” Jamie looked up at Murtagh. “Claire named the bairn after my parents.”

“Now look at the bairn’s date of birth” Murtagh added.

“January 10th, 1947” Jamie read aloud.

“And when did you bed Claire?”

“I met her on April 15th and we slept together on April the 16th and 17th", Jamie replied, blushing slightly. “We didna waste time.”

Jamie’s godfather just nodded, his confession the confirmation he needed to piece it all together.

“Well, if she went full term, that child would have been conceived between April 15th and April 23rd,1946. There’s no doubt in my mind that that child is yours, Jamie. The names confirm it.”

Jamie stood and paced around the room, running his hands through his hair and muttering to himself. It took a couple of minutes for him to take on board what Murtagh had revealed. Murtagh watched as Jamie began to come to grips with being a father of a child in 1947.

“But Murtagh - Claire’s married … and to a Lord for Christ’s sake. She made that choice and she may not want to know me. She might not want me anymore!”

Murtagh guffawed. “Jamie, the lass was alone in 1946 with a bairn in her belly. Do ye have any idea how the lass’d cope with being a single mother in 1947? No family, no father, likely no job. It seems to me she didna have much choice. That’s why I went to London and got some research done.”

Murtagh took four pages from his folder and laid them out on the table for Jamie.

“Have a look lad” he said.

Jamie returned to the table and sat down. He pulled the first page to himself. It was a newspaper article and photograph of Claire with a handsome man. They were both in formal wear. The caption read: _“Lord and Lady Grey attended a charity event at the Great Ormond Street Hospital, which raised £5,000 for medical research_.” The other newspaper articles and photographs were all formal poses at social events.

“Now, look at these articles.” Murtagh laid out four more articles with photographs. All of them were taken in relaxed settings and Lord John featured in all of them with his male friends, but there was no sign of Claire. Jamie scrunched his forehead in confusion and understanding of Murtagh’s implication.

“What are you trying to say, Murtagh?”

Murtagh laid out more articles. They related to a series of court cases in which a group of socialites had been charged with “gross indecency”. First was Sir George Robert Mowbray, 5th Baronet Mowbray, who was fined for importuning men at the Piccadilly Circus Underground station. Second, Baron Bradwell who was charged with indecent assault after two men shared his bed in the 1940s and who used his position as a journalist several times to get off later charges when caught soliciting in public toilets by the police. The third article had a photograph of Lord John Grey leaving the court after being charged with importuning men at a gentlemen’s club. Beside him was Claire. It was dated 1949.

“What I’m saying, Jamie, is that Claire’s a beard for Lord John. This isna a real marriage. She appears with him occasionally and she covers for him, but his interest is in other men. It seems the police were determined to uncover homosexuality in the aristocracy, and he was nae the only one to be caught.”

Jamie was stunned. “I dinna know what to do Murtagh. Should I warn her this could get dangerous? How can I do that?”

Murtagh placed the final article in front of Jamie. It was a newspaper article and photograph of Claire in Paris at the opening of Tamara de Lempicka’s exhibition in December 1947. In her arms was a small child. The caption read: _“Lady Claire Grey attended the opening of the exhibition at the Hotel Regina Louvre with her daughter, Ellen. Lord and Lady Grey are spending Christmas and the New Year in Paris_.”

Jamie went to his desk and took out a small magnifying glass and ran it over the photograph. Murtagh watched as his face softened and a multitude of emotions crossed his face. “Ellen looks so much like her grandmother, eh? It may be a monochrome photograph but I’m pretty sure there’s some strawberry blonde in that hair and the eyes - the eyes are the Fraser eyes. And look at Claire, she’s so bonny and looking at Ellen with such pride.” He’d also noticed that she was wearing the butterfly brooch by Vever, the one he had given her. He couldn’t see her hands to see if she was wearing the Lalique ring but the fact that she still kept his gift was heartwarming enough.

“Jamie, we know Claire will be in Paris at the end of the year with Ellen. Ye need to go and warn her what’s coming. John will be convicted.”

“And Claire?” said Jamie looking concerned. “She will be charged with perjury for lying under oath. She lied for him.”

“Well, that doesna leave me much choice does it, Murtagh. I’ll start planning tonight.”

Murtagh started clearing the papers into the folder so Jamie could study them later. Jamie placed his hand over Murtagh’s shoulder and said,“Thank ye Murtagh. I’ve always trusted ye as a loyal friend, but now I must thank you for what you’ve done for the love of my life and my bairn. I dinna know of any words that can tell ye how grateful I am.”

The two men stood and embraced. “If yer bairn is anything like her grandmother, the pleasure will have been all mine” Murtagh whispered in Jamie’s ear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The charges against Mowbray and Bradwell are historic fact.


	10. Christmas in Paris (1947)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jamie finally returns to Paris in December 1947.

 

Jamie had put months of planning into the trip to Paris, as well as running the business. He had gathered more information to add to the folder Murtagh had presented him with. An internet search also led to him acquiring some old British sterling and French franc notes and coins. He had considered a multitude of possible outcomes but ultimately, he focussed on the only option he could comfortably entertain – that Claire and Ellen would return to Scotland and 2007 with him.

He checked his bags for what must have been the hundredth time: plane tickets to Paris, the folder of articles he’d added to, hotel reservations, gifts for Claire and Ellen, photos of his mother as a child, his bare necessities – he ran through the list again and again. Each time he had a sense of anticipation and panic.

Getting Claire and Ellen to Scotland without passports was going to be an issue. Murtagh had contacted a business associate who shipped whisky from Scotland to mainland Europe who said it could be done with the right contacts. The very thought of travelling by boat made Jamie turn green, but he knew it would have to be done _if_ he could convince Claire to leave.

Despite all the obstacles facing him, Jamie felt optimistic. It showed in his body language and interactions. Even Jenny noticed his positive attitude when he visited Lallybroch in November. “Ye’ve brought Christmas presents in November, Jamie? Are you no’ coming to Lallybroch for Christmas and Hogmanay?”

“I may not be able to make it, Jenny, so I wanted to be sure the bairns would get my presents. Ye may need to hide them in the priest’s hole awhile.”

“Jamie, that’s the first place they’d look if they get the idea ye’ve been with gifts!”

“Well, I still hope to be here, but I might not. It’s peak season for the new operation and things will be crazy. Ye know I’ll be here if I can.” He gave her a hug and headed off with Ian. Jenny wasn’t happy with Jamie’s answer, but Ian had made her promise to give Jamie space and not push him too hard. She had seen the sense in what Ian was saying, but it was difficult. She wanted to know what was going on, but seeing him with a smile on his face was enough to ward off too many questions.

The night before he left for Paris, he had dinner and a few drinks with Murtagh.

“Jamie, the lass may not wish to know ye. You are ready for that, aye?”

“I know Murtagh, but I have to hope she’ll give me a hearing for her and Ellen’s sake.”

“I’ll be here ready to help with anything ye need, Jamie. Anything – money, boats, anything. Now, I’ll be going so ye can sleep. Early start tomorrow and a big day.”

Murtagh downed his drink, slapped Jamie on the shoulder and left him alone.

Jamie had set his alarm for the early taxi to the airport, but he hardly slept. His sense of excitement made him alert, and he couldn’t turn his brain off. He went through memories of his first meeting with Claire, the joy of being and laying with her, the heartache on his return to Paris and the contents of the folder which he hoped would convince her of the need to leave. All the things he’d gone through a hundred times before.

In the morning, he had a quick shower, dressed and went downstairs just as the taxi arrived. The flight was on schedule, his hotel in Paris was ready for his arrival and he had a stroll through Paris to check there were no obstacles in the way of his late-night walk. When the time finally came for him to await the Peugeot, he was buzzing with excitement. He had left his larger bag in storage at the hotel and carried a satchel. He moved from foot to foot with nervous anticipation.

When the Peugeot arrived and picked him up, he breathed a sigh of relief. As before, he nodded off and woke in 1947 Paris.

His research of property and telephone records had informed him on where the Greys lived, but he would have to visit at a civil hour the next day. He took his old French cash and booked into a small hotel in the same street as the Grey’s apartment, laid on the bed and had a little restless sleep. After breakfast the following morning, he walked to the small park opposite Claire’s apartment building, sat on a park bench and watched for movements in and out of the building.

After about 25 long minutes, he saw John Grey leave the building and get into a waiting car. He knew this might be his only opportunity to see Claire alone, so he crossed the street and walked into the building. He walked the stairs to the first floor and found the apartment.

By now, his heart was beating fast, his palms and forehead felt particularly clammy and his leg was throbbing, as it always did when he was stressed. He knocked gently on the door and heard footsteps.

Then he heard Claire’s voice from within: “John, did you forget your keys _again_?”, she laughed.

The door opened.

“It’s not John. It’s me. Jamie.”

He dropped his satchel and grabbed her as Claire fainted into his arms. He held her close, then carried her inside to a lounge chair. He knelt by the chair and waited for her to come to her senses. She looked at him in disbelief:

“I … I thought you were dead.”

“I nearly was, Claire. I have so much to tell ye …”

He paused when he heard a child’s high-pitched voice: “Mama, mama.” Claire stood and walked to the next room, returning with her daughter in her arms.

“Jamie, this is …”

“Ellen Brianna”, he said with a smile and a sudden surge of love. He walked slowly towards them both, the little girl’s eyes following his movements.

“How do you know that? How could you possibly know that?”, Claire asked. “Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ, I need a drink.”

She placed Ellen on a playmat on the floor and moved towards a high cupboard in the corner of the room, opening the doors to reveal a cocktail bar.

“I never drink whisky in the morning, but I’ll make an exception. You too?” she said pointing a glass at Jamie.

“Please”, he replied.

“Please sit, Jamie. Christ, you’ve got a lot of explaining to do”, Claire said with a mix of relief, interest and anger.

“Aye, I ken. Like I said, I was nearly dead and that’s why I couldna get back to ye”, Jamie began.

“And you couldn’t let me know that? Send a letter, phone the hotel? I waited almost five months, Jamie. I went through fear, despair, pain, loneliness – well, I don’t think there was an emotion I didn’t go through, except happiness. It was hell.”

“Claire”, he stood up from the chair and began to pull down his trousers.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”, Claire exclaimed.

“I just want to show ye the scar, the injury that stopped me returning to be with ye”, Jamie said.

Initially Claire had been horrified, but then she saw the long scar on his leg. She sat forward in the chair and looked closely. “Good grief. Whoever put the sutures in that really knew what they were doing.” (Jamie smiled thinking only a doctor or nurse would say such a thing.) “Where was that done?”

Jamie looked her straight in the eye, wanting to see her response. “It was done in Paris in April 2006.”

There was a long stretch of total silence, maybe 10 seconds but it felt like 10 minutes to Jamie.

“Jamie, I’m sorry I think I must have misheard what you said”. He repeated his answer. She sat back in the chair, thought about it and then said:

“Well, I’ve heard some pretty tall stories in my time, but that takes the biscuit.”

Jamie reached for his satchel, indicating to the documents within. “Claire, I can tell ye when your husband was born, when you were married and when Ellen was born. I know that your marriage was one of convenience, that you are covering for John and that you, he and Ellen are in danger because John will be caught out in a few years’ time. I know which judge will try John’s case, I know the outcome of the court hearing and I know you will be charged also. I have newspaper articles and photographs proving this. I know all this because I am from the future, Claire. That’s why I couldna return to ye – I was in hospital in the year 2006.”

Claire took her drink and walked to the large sash windows overlooking Paris streets. She was very quiet, but it was obvious her mind was whirring, trying to take this all in. It was some minutes before she spoke: “So, you’ve come back to warn us that we are in trouble. You were worried about your daughter, because she is so obviously yours Jamie.”

“No, that’s not why I came back Claire. I mean - yes, it is, but I would have returned regardless. When I told ye I loved ye in April last year, I meant it. I still do. The way I felt about ye never changed. I did come back to the hotel where you worked in September last year.” At this Claire turned, looking surprised. Jamie continued:

“I got your message and the Picasso, but ye had gone and when they told me ye had married I was a mess. I didn’t know you were pregnant then but if I had I would have married you in a matter of seconds. I went back to Scotland and my godfather, Murtagh, found out about you, John, Ellen – and John’s homosexuality.”

Claire took a moment to take in all that Jamie had said. “I haven’t seen anyone from the hotel since I left with John. I was planning to visit and see if the Picasso was there, but now I know it’s not. So, you did come back. I’m sorry Jamie. I had to marry John because I had no choice. Fortunately, John and I have become great friends. He really is a wonderful man, but obviously we’ve never been more than friends. I guess I’m saying, “I believe you”, ridiculous as it all sounds.”

Claire smiled as she watched Ellen move onto all fours and crawl towards Jamie. She saw a tear fall down Jamie’s cheek as Ellen pulled herself up, clinging to his trousers, and raised her arms to indicate she wanted him to pick her up. “She normally only does that with John and me. She must know that you are a special person in her life – and mine.” By now, Ellen was busy sticking her fingers in Jamie’s mouth, up his nose and in his ears.

“John will be staying at the gentlemen’s club tonight, and probably tomorrow night too. I don’t think I need to tell you why. I’m going to get Ellen something to eat and then we can have some time to ourselves.” Claire went into the kitchen and began preparing some apples for Ellen, while Jamie sat at the kitchen table with Ellen on his knee. Claire was busy cutting the apples when she said to Jamie: “It’s been difficult to cope since you left. It was wonderful to find someone I could enjoy being with, sleeping with, and then you were gone. Has it been hard for you?”

“Aye”, Jamie replied, “the closest I’ve got since we laid together was Geneva Dunsany sexting me.”

The moment the words left his mouth, Jamie realised he had made a huge mistake and that the sounds of Claire preparing food had stopped. He looked up to see her face down, her fists clenched and resting on the kitchen bench. She took a deep breath.

“So, you couldn’t get back to me because your leg was so bloody painful, but you were able to have sex with this Geneva woman?” Claire was ready to explode. Her face was reddening.

“You bloody bastard. I was pregnant with your child, afraid for the future, and you were having sex with this other woman?”

Jamie rose from the chair. “Claire, calm down. That is no’ what sexting means. I havena lain with anyone since you.”

“Really? So, you did it standing up, over the kitchen table, against a wall but never laying down did you? Christ, you’ve got a nerve James Fraser. Go back to your other woman and don’t ever come back. And give me my child, I don’t want you anywhere near her.”

Jamie placed Ellen in a play pen in the corner of the kitchen and then tried to embrace Claire. She was having none of it.

“Claire, sexting is something that happens in the 21st century. It means someone sends photos of themselves to someone else’s mobile phone. It isna having sex.” As soon as he finished his explanation, he realised it would make no sense to Claire whatsoever.

“I have not had sex with her or anyone else since I met you.”

Claire was distraught, sobbing and shaking. Finally, Jamie put her over his shoulder and explored the corridors until he found her room. He lay her down on the bed and held her tight.

“Claire please, just let me hold ye awhile. I love you and only you. There is no-one else and I’m no’ going away unless you come with me. You and Ellen.”

He continued to hold her in a firm grip, kissing her forehead and the top of her head, as she continued to sob and hit him with her fists. Claire eventually settled down to the point she could speak. Between intermittent crying, she told Jamie about the fear she had encountered, why she hadn’t used any protection when they made love, Tamara’s intervention, how she had accepted John’s offer because she had no option, about how fortunate she was that Tamara had cared enough about her or she could have been in a dire situation, how frightened she had been that he was dead and that Ellen would never meet her father.

When she had finally released it all, Jamie gave her a full account of the stabbing, his recovery and rehabilitation, the desolation he had felt when he returned and she was gone, and the hope he felt when Murtagh discovered what had happened to her. They both listened intently to one another and came to understand how they were victims of circumstance.

Finally, a red-eyed Claire looked into his eyes: “Jamie, I do love you.”

She reached under her blouse, pulling out a gold chain. On the end of it was the Lalique ring Jamie had given her.

“I never took it off, Jamie”.

He held her close, kissing her forehead.

Claire added: “And I think I’d probably hate this Geneva woman”.

“You would nae be alone, Sassenach”, Jamie replied laughing.

“Will ye come to bed with me as soon as Ellen sleeps?”, Jamie added.

“God yes”, said Claire as Jamie’s hand dropped to her pinch her perfect arse.

“But we will use condoms this time”, she added.


	11. Nurse Beauchamp

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jamie and Claire are still in Paris in 1947.
> 
> My sincere thanks to @thebrochtuarachs (aka minstrel troubadour). We have just finished sharing notes on this chapter, so I guess it's the digital version of "hot off the press". Her feedback is always valuable.
> 
> I'm pretty sure this open-ended tale will end at Chapter 20, so we're over half way. I hope you enjoy.

 

Much of the tension dissipated after Claire had voiced her fears and Jamie had reassured her that he was not going anywhere. Throughout the rest of the day, they spent time with Ellen and ate and drank together. They regularly touched and kissed, generally relaxing and opening up to one another, making up for lost time.

Jamie produced photos of his mother as a child and Claire was astounded at her likeness to Ellen. He unwrapped the “baby tammy” hat that he had brought for Ellen and they laughed as she pulled it off her head and tried to eat it. When Claire breast fed Ellen, Jamie looked on with fascination.

“Ellen, ye have no idea how jealous I am of ye” Jamie said smiling.

He leaned over, kissing Ellen on the head and, then, Claire on her exposed breast.

“Christ, Sassenach. I didna think seeing ye feed our child could be so erotic.”

Eventually, Ellen was satiated and fell asleep in Claire’s arms. Claire slowly stood, carried her to the nursery cot, kissed her head and covered her with a warm quilt.  

Jamie watched on and then took Claire in his arms. “Is it my turn now?” he asked.

“Your turn to what?” asked Claire teasingly.

“To fondle yer breasts and fall asleep in yer arms” Jamie replied.

“Oh, you won’t be going to sleep anytime soon, Jamie Fraser.”

She took Jamie by the hand and led him to her room. “Sit there”, she told him.  

She undressed seductively in front of him and then told him to stand before her. Jamie was rendered still, mesmerised. She undressed him slowly, running her fingers and tongue up his scarred thigh. “I think you need some healing, Mr. Fraser”, she said. “Now, sit down. Nurse Beauchamp is in charge.” Jamie sat on the edge of the bed and waited for her move. She readied him for a condom and rolled it on to him as he fondled her breasts and hips.

Claire placed her knees on each side of his hips and rubbed his cock on her slit. “I think I know the best treatment for your condition, Mr. Fraser.” She slowly lowered herself on Jamie, gasping as he entered her. Jamie was kissing her breasts and supporting her hips, shuddering with anticipation.

“Are you feeling any better, Jamie?” asked Claire seductively.  “Or do you need a more advanced treatment?”

“Christ, Claire, how I’ve missed ye.” Jamie said, breathless. “What it is between us, it’s still there isn’t it?”

“Always”, she replied.

Jamie pulled Claire’s legs up around his waist and rolled her on to her back. By now, he was desperate to ravish Claire and she was just as desperate to be ravished. Their bodies were sweating, their gasps loud, and their movements bordering on frantic.  All those months without one another resulted in a crescendo of epic proportions.

They both lay panting for several minutes, seemingly unable to move. Neither of them wanted to separate, but eventually Jamie rolled on to his back and exhaled.

“I think I’ve died and gone to heaven” said Claire.

Jamie laughed. “I think the treatment worked, Nurse Beauchamp. I can now die a happy man.”

They looked at one another with a glow of love and satisfaction neither of them had experienced in so long. Eventually, it was Jamie who stood.

“Where are you going, Mr. Fraser?  Nurse Beauchamp hasn’t finished treating her patient yet. There are so many more procedures we need to follow”, she laughed as Jamie took a small parcel from his satchel.

“Sit up, Claire” he said quietly. As she sat up, he reached around her neck and secured a necklace at the back of her neck.

“They’re Scottish pearls. They belonged to my mother and now they belong to the woman I love. They are the only thing I have left of her. They are very precious to me, as are you Claire.”  Then he kissed her lovingly and she looked into his blue eyes, feeling overwhelmed. “They’re beautiful, Jamie. Thank you.”

They crawled beneath the bedclothes and held one another. There was no need for further words,as they remained wrapped in each other’s arms, occasionally kissing. The only sounds in the room were the ticking of a carriage clock and their breathing.

They were wakened early the next morning by the sound of Ellen calling out.

“She’ll want a feed, then she might sleep a bit longer”, Claire said sleepily, swinging her legs to the side of the bed.

“Get some pillows behind ye, Sassenach. I’ll fetch the wee lass.”

When Jamie returned with wee Ellen, she was sucking her fingers and excitedly reached for Claire, who was already sitting up in the bed. Ellen sought out Claire’s breast and clamped on, sucking hard. Jamie laid on the bed alongside them, looking intently, just taking in his family.

“What are you thinking about, Jamie?”  Claire asked, flitting glances between him and Ellen.

“I’m thinking that ye and Ellen are the two most important people in my life, Sassenach.  I’ve family back in Scotland who mean the world to me but watching you with our bairn brings my life into perspective.” He touched Ellen’s head and smoothed out her short hair. “I’m also thinking that without Murtagh I might never have known about Ellen, or why ye had married.”

“I would very much like to meet Murtagh and thank him” said Claire.

Jamie paused and hesitated to continue but there was no perfect way to broach the subject, he thought, so he just came out with it. “I want ye to come back with me, Claire. I want ye to meet Murtagh and my family in 2007” Jamie said, kissing her on the cheek.

Claire was uncertain. “We have a lot to think and talk about, Jamie. Of course, I want to be with you – I love you. But I also must consider what the changes mean for me and Ellen. I’m sure 2007 is very different to 1947.” Claire looked down and saw Ellen had dozed off. “Let’s put Ellen in her cot. She’ll probably nap for another hour, then I can bath her and give her some breakfast. I’ll be back in a minute.”

Claire placed Ellen back in her cot and returned to bed with Jamie. “I’m so happy you’re here, Jamie. I can’t tell you what it means to me that you came back for me and Ellen. But I’d like to have some time to think about how we can be together. Is that okay? It’s a big decision.”

 

“Aye, of course”, Jamie responded.  “I dinna want to push ye into a decision ye might regret.”

 

Jamie held her close. Rather than press Claire for an answer he said, “Lie on your stomach and I’ll give ye a wee massage, Claire.” He was closing discussion of the topic for the time being - they had time now, they’ll figure it out again later.

Claire purred as Jamie massaged her shoulders and worked his way down her back, kissing her as he went. His large hands reached her arse and down her legs. After about ten minutes, she felt Jamie’s body rest against hers and she laughed into her pillow. “Jamie, that is one mighty cockstand you have. Do you want me to massage that?”

Jamie rolled her over. “Are ye offering?” he asked. Claire placed a pillow under her arse and beckoned him towards her. “Let’s give it a try”, she smiled as Jamie moved inside her.

“Christ, Claire, does the wanting of ye ever stop?”

“I hope not” she squealed as he moved deep into her.

When his “massage” was complete, Jamie rolled onto his side and pulled Claire over to face him. “What it is between us - when I lie with ye, when ye touch me - it makes me complete, yet, I am always left wanting” he said.  “I’m always thinking of when we might be joined again. Is that normal?”

“I don’t think so, but I feel it too” replied Claire.

Jamie’s stomach grumbled and Claire failed to suppress the laugh that bubbled inside of her. He kissed her forehead.  “Let’s eat before we waste away, Sassenach.”

They threw on the bare minimum of clothing and went to the kitchen. Jamie cooked French toast while Claire made a pot of coffee. As they ate, Claire asked Jamie, “Will you show me those documents in your satchel today? I’m a bit worried about seeing what the future could bring but I think I need to know.”

“Aye” said Jamie. “I think ye need to know, as does John. I don’t know the man, but I fear for him, after all he has done for ye and Ellen when I couldna be here, Claire, I want to help ye both.”

Jamie gathered the documents from his satchel and spread them out on the dining table. First, the printout from _ancestry.com_ , then the newspaper articles showing her and John and finally the articles relating to John’s criminal charges. Then he produced the article showing her in Paris, “That’s how I knew ye’d be in Paris now, Sassenach. I spent months praying ye’d see me and still want me, months wondering about the wee lass ye’d named after my parents. Christ, I was counting the hours.”

Claire leaned into him and kissed his lips. “I know about counting the hours, Jamie. I’m so happy you did come find me and so glad that you’ve finally met your daughter. John should be back here some time tomorrow. It will be so much for him to take in, as it has been for me. I have a thousand questions about the future and, like you, I fear for him. I just noticed that there’s nothing on this first piece of paper about when Ellen, John and I are supposed to die. Why is that?”

“I cut off the last piece of that page. I didna think ye’d want to know all that – and anyway, we might be about to change yer future”, Jamie said smiling.

“Tell me my immediate future, Jamie”, Claire said with a broad grin.

“Oh, I think ye know what that is Sassenach”, said Jamie as he swept her off the chair and carried her towards the bedroom. “I think we should get a wee bit sweaty before we have a shower together, eh?”

“Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ.  I won’t be able to walk by the end of the day”, Claire laughed.

“Good. Ye won’t be able to escape me, _mo chidhre_.”


	12. Extended family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jamie meets Lord John Grey.
> 
> Kudos to @ArtistSassenach for the photo of Claire/Caitriona and Jamie/Sam in the collage. Great images on their blog.

 

It was the following afternoon when Jamie and Claire heard keys turning in the lock of the apartment door. Jamie was lying on the floor surrounded by Ellen’s toys, with his daughter climbing on him. Claire, on the other hand, was watching on lovingly, laughing at their daughter’s antics.

There was an awkward moment when John entered - particularly when Ellen raised her arms towards him wanting to be cuddled. Claire watched Jamie’s smile disappear as his daughter was so obviously pleased to see John. Her immediate response was to lean over and place her hand on Jamie’s shoulder.

“Well, this is awkward” said John as he lifted Ellen and kissed her cheek. There was no time like the present, Claire thought. This introduction must happen anyway. How could it be otherwise?

“John, this is Jamie Fraser – Ellen’s father” Claire said trying to break the ice. “He finally found us.”

John didn’t look too impressed. “Seems to me that you are a little late, Mr. Fraser. Over a year late, actually. Might I ask why that is and why you are here now?”

Jamie stood and placed his hand in Claire’s. “I believe it would be reasonable of ye to believe that I have no’ been fair to Claire or Ellen, John, but I would very much like to talk to ye about why that is. I think once ye ken why I wasna here before and why I have come now, ye might think a little better of me.”

“One would hope so, Mr. Fraser”. John still didn’t look convinced. Claire felt uncomfortable when she saw the way John looked Jamie up and down though. She had seen him do this to other men, but seeing his eyes run over Jamie as if assessing him was very confronting.

Trying to create a more comfortable environment, Claire suggested she make some coffee, tea and snacks so that John and Jamie could get to know one another. The two men sat at opposite ends of the dining table, while Claire sat between them with Ellen in her high chair. The atmosphere was tense, and Jamie quickly realised that stories of stabbings and the like were unlikely to move John, so he briefly told John of his return to find Claire gone.

He then quickly moved on to the documents he had brought with him. Jamie took the documents from his satchel and sat closer to John, with Claire looking over his shoulder to assess John’s reaction. John didn’t appear to be convinced until he saw the articles naming Sir George Mowbray and Baron Bradwell. He moved forward in his chair and read the details and saw photos of two men he knew personally.

“Mowbray went to an underground station? What was he thinking? And the photograph is certainly him, but he has aged significantly. But Bradwell – surely he must have been a victim of entrapment.”

Then Jamie showed John the article detailing his charges and showing the photograph of him and Claire leaving the court. Claire watched as John’s face paled and he slumped back in his chair. “I was arrested at the club? But that is my place of safety. We only allow members. Claire, you’ve been implicated too. How could this possibly happen?”

Claire placed her hand on John’s shoulder. “Jamie didn’t just come back to me, John. He wanted to warn you that you are in danger. He wanted to thank you for taking care of me and Ellen.”

“Aye, John”, added Jamie. “These are just a few examples of prominent people who have been charged and convicted. There are plenty more men who have been blackmailed and shamed. When I was doing my research, I found there are plans to make a movie about a man who broke the German codes in the Second World War and who was charged, even though he had practically won the war for the Allies.”

John grabbed Jamie’s arm in alarm. “Is this man’s name Alan Turing?”

Jamie looked concerned: “I believe it was. Why?”

“I worked with Turing at Bletchley Park. The man’s a genius. What happened to him?” asked John looking panicked.

“I dinna have any details with me, but I believe he was found guilty and most likely went to gaol”, replied Jamie.

“A man who saved so many cheated like a common criminal because of his homosexuality. God, it makes me want to scream”, John shouted angrily. John stood and walked to the cocktail bar, taking a bottle of whisky and pouring himself a large glass. He paced the room looking worried and sipping from the glass. Claire broke the silence.

“John, you can’t save everyone you know but Jamie is giving you a warning of what might be in the future. It’s a chance to avoid the situation.”

John looked to Jamie: “Yes, I thank you for that. I don’t mean to sound ungrateful, but it seems people like me are coming under even greater scrutiny when we are merely guilty of an act with another consenting adult.”

“If it helps at all, John, the homosexual community does make great progress in years to come.” Jamie reached into his satchel and found an article detailing the _Sexual Offences Act_ of 1967. “The 1967 Act will change the law. It will decriminalise homosexual acts in private between two men aged 21 and older.”

John scanned the article and handed it back to Jamie. “Another twenty years. So, Jamie. How is life for homosexuals in Britain in your time?”

Claire was pleased to hear that John was beginning to take Jamie and his life in the future more seriously.

“Well John, ye may be surprised to hear that there is a move towards allowing homosexuals to marry. Only homosexuals are more commonly referred to as ‘gay’. There are still people who disagree with the idea of same sex marriage, but I think it will happen”, Jamie said adding: “And for the record, I think it would be a good thing.”

“Well, I would very much like to see that Jamie”, John smiled. “Right here and now, that sounds like a distant dream.”

“I can tell ye a lot more about how things change, John. Ye and Claire will be surprised to hear about the changes that can happen in sixty years.”

Claire added: “Yes, there is something called sexting where someone can send photos of themselves to someone else on a mobile phone.”

John’s brow furrowed: “What on earth is a mobile phone?”

“I’ve no idea, John, but it happened to Jamie”, Claire frowned.

“I wasna happy about it, John. I dinna like the woman”, Jamie added defensively.

“I really have no idea what you two are talking about. Would anyone else like a whisky?”, John asked.

“Yes please”, Claire and Jamie replied in unison.

Their conversation took on a new tone. Without explicitly stating it, John appeared to accept that Jamie was indeed from the future and that he had the best interests of Claire, Ellen and himself at heart. He asked questions about cars, planes, building construction and other technologies. Anticipating these questions, Jamie had brought a few magazines adding authenticity to his responses. John and Claire were fascinated by what they read, and surprised that while the pound sterling was still in use, there was a new currency in France and other European nations known as the Euro.

By the time they were sitting down to supper that night, the conversation had moved on to their own situations and the hurdles facing them. Watching Claire expressing concern about John brought a smile to Jamie’s face. This was one reason he loved this woman. Not only was she beautiful, intelligent and articulate, she was caring, and had a sense of loyalty and fairness. John had offered friendship and support at a time when she was vulnerable, and she would never forget it. There was no doubt that John had hoped to protect himself by marrying Claire, but he had been kind and generous to her and she knew she could trust him. He was clearly very fond of Ellen, and she of him.

Jamie even felt a twinge of jealousy that John had been there for them when he wasn’t, but at the same time he was incredibly grateful to this man.

By the early hours of the following morning, it was Claire who finally suggested they all sleep and continue their discussions over breakfast. Jamie felt a sense of discomfort at the prospect of sleeping with Claire when her “husband” was in the home and told John so. John laughed and looked at Jamie and Claire standing in front of him holding hands.

“It’s ironic, is it not, that you technically committing adultery would not be considered as serious a matter as me sleeping with another man. Claire, you have never given anyone reason to question the authenticity of our marriage and I thank you for that. I won’t tell if neither of you do. I wish you both a good night and merely ask that you keep it quiet or I might be jealous.”

Both Claire and Jamie flushed with embarrassment and laughed as John walked towards his bedroom, looking back and adding: “For goodness sake, use protection this time though unless you _**want**_ Ellen to have a sibling.”

Jamie smiled at Claire: “I didna think he’d be jealous of me making love to you, Claire”.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Jamie. He’s jealous of me for being in bed with you”, Claire replied with a grin.

Jamie began to resemble a beetroot, while Claire laughed at his embarrassment. “I think I’m in need of some more treatment, Nurse Beauchamp”, he laughed as he swept her into his arms and raced towards her bedroom.


	13. Transition

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The time travellers are on the move.
> 
> Thanks go to @thebrochtuarachs (minstreltroubadour) for her feedback and to @artistsassenach for the use of some of their images (which are amazing manips). There are seven chapters left after this, currently being read, amended and prepared for publication. I hope to get this done ASAP as we prepare for Season 4. I hope you'll enjoy this and subsequent chapters.

 

The next day was the opening of Tamara’s exhibition.  Claire took Ellen with her while Jamie remained at the apartment, not wishing to be the cause of any unwanted questioning. John had indicated that he would be attending to business but when Claire had left he remained behind to talk to Jamie.

“Coffee?” John asked Jamie.

“Aye, please” Jamie responded.

The two of them sat facing one another at the dining table. There were a few moments of silence until John finally spoke, his voice certain, “I want you to take Claire and Ellen away with you, Jamie. I don’t want to risk them becoming involved in any criminal proceedings that may be brought about by my behaviour. The evidence you’ve provided has convinced me that the situation for homosexuals is going to get worse before it gets better. I hadn’t predicted that, to be honest. If Claire is implicated and charged, Ellen will lose her mother and I can’t bear the thought of that. I would never want to be responsible for them being separated.”

Jamie had been thinking about the situation too. “John, did ye think ye might come with us? I canna bear to think of you being charged after all ye’ve done for Claire and Ellen.  Would you consider it?”

John was taken aback by the offer and his smile conveyed a sense of gratitude for it.  “That’s the most generous offer, Jamie and I thank you. But I have my family, shareholders, staff and other factors to consider. This is my time and my place. Claire, on the other hand, has no family. She has become one of my best friends and I trust her with my life. But if I sink, I can’t be sure she will get the help she needs. We find out who our true friends are when times are bad. Now that I’ve been made aware of the dangers I face, I will need to be a great deal more cautious.”

“Do ye wish to think it over, John? I can wait a little longer if ye wish to consider it. I know Claire would wish to see ye safe. Otherwise, I can return in a year’s time and see if ye’ve changed yer mind.”

“Again, that is a most generous offer, Jamie. I can see that you and Claire are well matched – both of you are kind, considerate and loyal. I’m quite envious. I will think about your offer. In the meantime, I am going to make noises about moving to America as a cover for Claire and Ellen disappearing. I’m off to the office now to begin planning that.”

As he was about to leave, John turned to face Jamie. “I do most sincerely thank you for bringing me news of what the future holds. The prospect of decriminalisation and acceptance of homosexual relationships in the future does give me some hope. Now, you and Claire need to begin planning your future, too. Parting with such a good friend is going to be difficult for me but it must be done.”

John left Jamie alone in the apartment to consider the possible timing of his exit with Claire and their child. He understood Claire had some reservations about leaving. Her sense of loyalty to John was strong and she would be leaving for a very different world which she knows little about. However, he also knew that his family would embrace Claire and Ellen and provide the stability she had lacked in the past. She had said she wanted a _happily ever after_ and he wanted to provide it for her.

When Claire returned, Ellen was exhausted and after a feed, she had an afternoon nap.  Jamie led Claire to the couch and sat her on his lap, embracing her. He told her of his conversation with John and the offers he had made, as well as John’s response. Claire shed a few tears for her friend: “I wish John would come with us. I fear for him, Jamie. If he is arrested and found guilty, he could become a social outcast.”

Jamie kissed and squeezed her, “Which is precisely why I made the offer to him, _mo chidre_. Ultimately, he must want it. The question, now, is - are you prepared to leave without him? Do ye wish to risk it?”

Claire sat next to him on the couch, taking both his hands in hers. “Jamie, you are my home now. _Where you go, I will go, and where you stay I will stay. Your people will be my people and your God, my God. Where you die, I will die, and there, I will be buried._ ”

“The book of Ruth”, Jamie replied. “I dinna consider myself a verra religious person, Claire, but ‘tis one of my favourite quotes. My parents lived by it and I am happy to, as well, provided ye are with me.”

“And you will come back in a year to see John? To be sure he doesn’t regret his decision?” asked Claire.

“My word is my bond” Jamie replied and gave a sigh of relief. “Claire, I canna believe we are finally going to be together with Ellen. I hope ye’ll be happy living in the apartment I built, reunited with yer Picasso and breeding like rabbits.”

“Rabbits is it?” laughed Claire. “I think we need to travel through time to our burrow first.”

“Are ye prepared to get some practice in, _mo nighean donn_?”

“Bed or floor?” said Claire with a wicked grin.

Jamie dragged her to the floor and began unbuttoning her blouse. “I dinna like to waste time, Sassenach.”

-

By the time John returned for an evening meal, Claire and Jamie had thoroughly ravished one another, developed a timeline for their departure, fed Ellen and prepared dinner (in that order).

Claire, Jamie, and John talked at length about their plans – Claire and Jamie planning to leave after Christmas and John outlining his initial plans to expand into the US so that he could claim that’s where Claire and Ellen had gone. It was clear to Jamie that the day they left would be difficult for Claire and John. Their friendship had been a place of safety and mutual respect and saying that they would greatly miss one another was a gross understatement. He hoped Claire wouldn’t regret her decision. For him, it would be returning home - but it was a trip into the unknown for her.

When the day finally came for them to leave, there was a shadow cast over all of them.  The tension was palpable as Claire placed two bags in the living room – one containing her essential items and the other for Ellen. As the time to leave came closer, John donned his coat and hat and turned to face Jamie and Claire.

“Well, I think it better that I go to the club for a while. I would prefer not to be here when you leave for the last time, Claire. Saying farewell to Ellen will be too difficult, too, I’m afraid. I want you to know that having a family for a while has been the most wonderful experience – one I might never have had if it hadn’t been for you. But I want you to live the best life you can, Claire. I have seen for myself how much Jamie loves you, and you him, and I hope to find that for myself one day.”

As he spoke, Claire began to sob and Jamie held her tight. She was unable to speak, but Jamie held her with one arm and held out the other hand to John. “John, I am so pleased that I have met ye. I canna thank ye enough for all that you’ve done for Claire and Ellen, and now for me. Whatever happens, we will meet again this time next year. Please know that ye will always have my friendship and I know that a part of Claire will always love you. Please, be careful.”

The two men shook hands, Claire embraced John and then he was gone. It took some time for Claire to settle down and Jamie was concerned that she might change her mind. Finally, he kissed her and said, “It’s time to leave, Claire.”  

Jamie wrapped Ellen in a blanket and held her to his chest. He carried one bag and Claire the other as they walked towards the hotel, ready to be picked up by the Peugeot in the early hours of the morning.

Both Jamie and Claire were emotionally exhausted by the time the car arrived. They climbed into the back seat and leaned towards one another, laying Ellen across their laps. When they woke, they were in Paris in the early hours of December 27, 2007.  They walked to the hotel where Jamie had left his bag and all three of them slept in a king bed, waking the next morning to a hungry Ellen.

Jamie became aware of how disorienting everything was for Claire. She had never seen a cordless or mobile phone, a colour television, milk from a carton, a laptop computer or tablet, or a digital clock - the list seemed to be endless. She was fascinated but felt a sense of dependence on Jamie, which she didn’t enjoy at all.

“Claire, dinna fash. Ye will adjust and in time ye’ll find that many things are much easier. I’ll be here for ye. I do understand, _mo chridhe.”_

“I’m sure you’re right, Jamie. I just feel a bit lost.”

“Ye’ll be safe as long as ye’re with me” Jamie said as his hand ran down her cheek.

“And when I’m not with you?” said Claire.

Jamie took her in his arms. “When ye meet my family ye’ll have a team falling over themselves to help. It’ll be fine” he reassured her.

Jamie was soon on his tablet and mobile, contacting Murtagh and planning to get them to Scotland. By the end of the day, they had arranged for Jamie, Claire and Ellen to be picked up from the hotel early the next morning and taken to the coast of France, where they would catch a boat to the south-east coast of England. From there, Murtagh had arranged for a hire car to get them to London where they would catch a train to Glasgow. Murtagh would be waiting there for them.

Jamie had concerns about travelling by boat, knowing how sick he had been on previous sailings. He had decided it was best not to fly to Scotland as they would most likely to be asked for ID for Claire when booking in. Train travel would take a little longer but was a safer option.

They were a tired and nervous couple who left Paris with a sleeping child just as the sun rose the following morning. Jamie held them both close: “Do you trust me Claire?”

“With my life”, she replied.

“We’re getting closer to the happy ever after, _mo nighean donn_ ”.

“As long as I have you and Ellen, I am happy” said Claire reaching up to kiss his lips.

 


	14. Je suis prest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Back in Scotland, finally.
> 
> Any spelling and grammatical errors, or issues with the flow of the story, are down to me as @thebrochtuarachs (my beta) is on holiday.
> 
> Again, thanks to @artistsassenach for the use of one of their images.

 

The boat trip across the English Channel had been quite smooth, but Jamie was still nauseous most of the way.  Claire and Ellen slept in a small cabin while Jamie stayed in the fresh air, doing his best to hold on to his breakfast.  When the freight ship docked in Essex, the captain whisked them away to the hire car and they were on their way to London.

Murtagh had the forethought to book them into first class for the train trip to Glasgow, so they were well fed but tired when they arrived at Glasgow Central.

Murtagh was patiently waiting at the station when the train pulled in.  He’d brought a child’s pusher and sitting in it, waiting for Ellen, was a Fraser tartan teddy bear.  As the crowd of passengers alighted from the train, he saw Jamie’s red hair bobbing above all the other heads and a wave of Jamie’s hand as he sighted Murtagh.  As the crowd drew closer, he caught first sight of Claire who was carrying Ellen. Murtagh mumbled under his breath: “Ah Jamie.  ‘Tisna hard to see why ye were smitten.”

As they drew close, Ellen caught sight of the bear and struggled in her mother’s arms.  Claire placed her on her feet in front of Murtagh. Her eyes gleamed with excitement and Murtagh knelt and handed the bear to her.  She smiled and cuddled it close, then grabbed Murtagh by the beard and laughed.  Jamie could see that another Ellen had captured his godfather’s heart.

As Murtagh rose to his feet, Claire’s arms reached across his shoulders and hugged him close.

“I believe I have a great deal to thank you for Murtagh.  I am so grateful.  I know we’re going to be great friends.”

Then it was Jamie’s turn to embrace Murtagh: “Aye Murtagh, ye’re a sight for sore eyes man.  It’s been a long trip, over 60 years, but it’s grand to be home in Scotland.”

“Jamie, Claire, Ellen … I canna tell ye how happy I am to see you all safely _home”_ , Murtagh exclaimed.  “Can I interest ye in a drive to yer new home, a pot of tea and a wee dram, Claire?”

“That sounds like magic, Murtagh.  Would there happen to be a bath and a large bed in this home?”, Claire asked.

“Aye, and a cot for the bairn”, replied Murtagh.

“Where did ye find a cot, Murtagh?” asked Jamie.

“Ian Murray brought it down from Lallybroch, Jamie.  Swore to me that Jenny had no idea, or they’d be a stramash.  He wanted to know more himself, but I told him I was expecting a visitor with a wee one.”

“Jenny doesn’t know anything?”, asked Claire.

Jamie picked up Ellen, complete with bear, and laughed.  “Claire, if Jenny knew of ye she’d be here right now with the entire Murray clan and a list of questions a mile long.  Believe me, it’s best we surprise her for Hogmanay, when she’s too busy to question us under torture.  My sister should have worked for MI5.”

The tired travellers made their way to Murtagh’s waiting car and then to Jamie’s apartment above the distillery.  Murtagh had already filled the pantry and fridge, and as he and Jamie prepared some food and drink Claire checked out the bathroom.  The food and drink were laid out on Jamie’s favourite table.  On entering the room, Claire immediately noticed the Picasso sitting in pride of place on the far wall and let out a cry of excitement.

“Jamie, my Picasso!  It looks perfect there.  How wonderful to see it again”, Claire exclaimed.

“Aye, I based the entire room around it Claire.  It was all I had of ye for a while.”  Jamie looked wistful as he reflected on the sadness he had felt when he thought he had lost Claire.

Claire slipped her arm around Jamie and kissed his cheek.  “A bit like me with my ring and brooch, Jamie.  All I had of you.”

Murtagh looked on happily.  “I think ye had a wee bit more than that, Claire”, he said pointing down to Ellen who was happily spreading cake crumbs on the floor as she tucked into a cherry sponge cake.

They sat chatting for a while, telling Murtagh all that happened in Paris while he filled them in on what had been happening in Glasgow.  Jamie was amused that his bachelor uncle had ventured into stores he had never encountered before to get disposable and cloth nappies, a car seat and piles of supplies for the nursery.  Jamie showed Claire how to use a disposable nappy but wasn’t surprised when she declared them an awful waste and opted to use the cloth nappies.

After a few hours, Murtagh left to allow them time to rest, adjust and settle in.  He promised to share the driving up to Lallybroch for New Year’s Eve, telling Jamie he “canna wait to see Jenny’s face when she finds out she’s an aunty to wee Ellen”.  He eyed Claire and told her to “prepare yer answers to the million questions Jenny and Ian will have for ye”.

With just the three of them in the apartment, Jamie ran a bath for Claire and Ellen to share.  Once Claire was in the bath, Jamie undressed Ellen and handed the excited little imp to her mother.  Ellen splashed and laughed playfully for a long time before the signs of tiredness became obvious.  Claire held her close and breast fed her in the bath, then Jamie took the sleepy baby and dried her in a towel, dressed her in a nappy and her new pyjamas and placed her in the cot.  She was asleep in seconds.

Jamie returned to the bathroom, undressed and said “move over Sassenach.  I’m coming in.”  He sat behind Claire, the water level rising as his large body embraced hers.  Claire sat back, resting on Jamie’s chest, and relaxed.

“Jamie, we’re finally home, aren’t we?  I’ve got a lot to get used to, but it feels right already.  Murtagh is such a sweetie.”

Jamie roared with laughter.  “I ken ye’re the first person I know to call him a sweetie, but he’s a wonderful friend.  He’s been like a father to me, and I could tell he’s verra fond of ye and Ellen already Sassenach.”

They lay quietly in the bath awhile until Jamie kissed Claire on the shoulder and quietly recited Richard Crawshaw:

 

_Come and let us live my Deare,_

_Let us love and never feare,_

_What the sowrest Fathers say:_

_Brightest Sol that dies to day_

_Lives againe as blithe to morrow,_

_But if we darke sons of sorrow_

_Set; o then, how long a Night_

_Shuts the Eyes of our short light!_

_Then let amorous kisses dwell_

_On our lips, begin and tell_

_A Thousand, and a Hundred, score_

_An Hundred, and a Thousand more,_

_Till another Thousand smother_

_That, and that wipe of another._

_Thus at last when we have numbred_

_Many a Thousand, many a Hundred;_

_Wee’l confound the reckoning quite,_

_And lose our selves in wild delight:_

_While our joyes so multiply,_

_As shall mocke the envious eye._

Claire’s hands ran up the inside of his thighs.  “Can I take it, the romantic Mr Fraser, that you are ready to test the new bed with me?”

 

“Aye, Nurse Beauchamp.  Feel like making another bairn now we’re home?”

 

“Jamie is that what you truly want?”, Claire asked smiling.

 

“Nothing would make me happier, Claire.”

 

“God, I love you Jamie.”

 

“And I you, Sassenach.”

 

As Jamie escorted a clean, dry and naked Claire to the bedroom, Claire asked: “Would you like a boy or a girl, Jamie?”

 

“What do we need to do for a girl, Sassenach?”

 

“Sex at least three times a day”, Claire replied.

 

“And for a lad?”, Jamie asked.

 

“Sex at least four times a day”, Claire laughed.

 

“A boy it is!” he cried as he rolled her on to the bed and began kissing her from the toes up.

 


	15. Hogmanay at Lallybroch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Claire and Ellen arrive at Lallybroch for the first time.
> 
> My beta reader (@thebrochtuarachs) is on holiday, so any spelling or grammatical errors are down to me.
> 
> Please note that I have just posted the first chapter of another story, "A safe place". This new story is not for everyone. I wrote a few chapters and then abandoned it, but returned when I saw the most recent statistics on domestic violence. I have seen the impact on family, friends and children. As a teacher, I have seen the long-term impact of family violence on my students. Those who think that teaching is a simple matter of designing and delivering curriculum would be surprised, and quite possibly horrified.
> 
> For those who haven't been impacted directly or non-directly by domestic violence - be glad but be aware. Be a listener, be a friend.
> 
> "A safe place" will only be available on AO3 as I didn't want anyone to stumble on it and find it distressing. It is very different to this fic.

 

 

It was the afternoon of New Year’s Eve and it was very cold.  Claire had been sure to dress Ellen in warm clothes and had packed more than enough for the drive and overnight stay at Lallybroch.  She was feeling nervous at the prospect of meeting Jamie’s family.

Jamie had insisted that she and Ellen should be a surprise.  Murtagh had been in touch with Ian, telling him that he and Jamie would be travelling up together.

“What about yer visitors with the wee one?  The one I lent you the cot for – and dinna tell Jenny!”, Ian reminded him.

“Would it be alright if I brought them along too, Ian?  They’ve never experienced Hogmanay in the highlands afore.  Could they stay overnight?”, Murtagh said with a sly grin on his face.  Just as well he was on the phone, not FaceTime.

“Aye, plenty of room.  Would ye and Jamie like to share one of the cottages with yer visitors?  Their bairn could have some quiet then.  Yer know how long and loud it can get here with all the family, Murtagh.”

“Perfect, Ian.  We’ll be seeing ye soon.”

“Why can’t we just tell them?”, asked Claire.

“Ye dinna know my sister, Claire.  Ye’ll see for yerself soon enough”, Jamie replied.

Ellen slept for much of the drive up to Lallybroch, waking shortly before they arrived.  As they pulled up close to the home, Claire looked up at the brightly lit building.  “You didn’t tell me it was a mansion, Jamie”, she exclaimed.

“’Tis not really a mansion, but it is home Claire”, he replied.

Murtagh parked the car a little distance from the main door.  Jamie helped Claire with Ellen, wrapping her in a blanket against the cold air that hit them when the car doors were opened.  They left their bags in the boot and walked towards the home.  As they drew close, the door opened, and Ian looked out to see who had arrived.  It was dark, so he only saw Jamie and Murtagh at first.

“What are ye carrying, Jamie?”, Ian asked.

“This is Ellen, Ian.”  Then Jamie stood aside to reveal Claire: “And this is Ellen’s mother, Claire”.

“Welcome Claire and wee Ellen, come in out of the cold”, Ian said standing aside.  As the door closed, Jenny appeared from the kitchen.  “Well brother, better late than never eh?  And who do we have here?”, she said looking closer at the bundle being carried by Jamie.

“Jenny, I would like ye to meet yer wee niece, Ellen.  And this is her mother and my beautiful lady, Claire.”

Jenny’s eyes opened wide as she moved closer to Ellen, who held out her Fraser teddy proudly to be inspected.  “Christ Jamie, she is a replica of Ma.  I canna believe it.”  Tears of joy fell from Jenny’s eyes as she ran her hand down the cheek of the smiling little girl.

“And Claire.  You must be the Claire Jamie asked for when he was in that hospital in Paris.  I canna believe ye are here after all this time.  Where have ye been?” Jenny asked, holding Claire by her arms.

“It’s a very long story, Jenny.  Let’s just say that Jamie and I were separated by circumstances, but Jamie returned to Paris to find us and … here we are.  It’s wonderful to meet you and see Lallybroch.  It’s so beautiful.”

Jenny wrapped her arm around Claire, guiding her to the huge room where everyone was gathered.  Jamie and Murtagh followed with Ellen, Ian bringing up the rear.  As they entered the room, there was a loud cry from Rupert: “Jamie!  Murtagh! Welcome, late as usual.  Who did ye bring with ye, eh?”

“Good evening all.  Please meet my beautiful lady, Claire, and our child Ellen”, Jamie announced with a broad smile on his face.

There was a pregnant pause as the gathered relatives looked at one another.  It was Jenny who broke the silence: “Aye, my wee brother has been keeping secrets from us all, and ye can be sure I will be finding out _exactly_ what’s been going on, but in the meantime raise yer glasses to Claire and Ellen”.

“Claire and Ellen!”, they all called raising their glasses and coming closer to welcome them individually.  In moments, Claire was surrounded by friendly faces offering her food and drinks, commenting on how beautiful Ellen was and asking how long she would be at Lallybroch. She was happily overwhelmed.

After the initial rush, it was Ian who took Claire aside.  “I’ve known Jamie almost my entire life, Claire, and he has never been able to keep a secret, never mind a secret like this.  Looking at him with wee Ellen, I don’t think I’ve ever seen him so proud.  Ye’ve made him a very happy man but let me tell you that a year ago he was desperately _un_ happy.  I think I have an inkling why that was now.”

“It’s been a difficult time for both of us, Ian.  It’s wonderful to be here to see Jamie with his family, and Ellen’s family”, Claire smiled.

“And yer family, Claire.  Jamie chose ye and that’s good enough for us.  Seeing him so happy is the best Hogmanay gift we could have.  Welcome and know that ye are always at home here.”

Claire watched as Jamie sat in the midst of his nieces and nephews, introducing them to Ellen.  The young Murrays were soon on the floor with toys, playing with a laughing Ellen, Jamie supervising the group.

Claire felt an arm slip around her back as Jenny whispered in her ear, “Come into the kitchen Claire.  I’ll make ye a hot drink and we can get acquainted.”  She led Claire down the corridor into a wonderful country kitchen, an old pine table in the centre and dressers along two walls.  On the far wall was a large AGA cooker, and to the side of it a collection of family sized pots and pans.  A huge kettle was boiling on the cooker, and Jenny placed some boiling water in a teapot.  “I’ll just warm the pot, Claire, then make us a drink.  There’s a choice of teas here,” she said pointing to an array of boxes.

“You have Oolong, my favourite”, Claire said smiling.

“A woman of taste, Claire”, Jenny responded.

“Thank you, Jenny,”, Claire replied looking at all the old crockery arranged on the dresser and wrapping her hands around the hot mug of tea.

“I canna tell ye how happy I am to see ye and Ellen with my brother.  A year ago he was that depressed that Ian and I thought we’d never see him settle, but now we know why he was so worrit.  I saw him in the hospital in Paris after the stabbing and he spoke yer name, and after that he was a bear with a sore heid.  I canna believe he didna talk to us of it, but all’s well that ends well. I just wish Ma and Da were here to see him with his bairn.”

Claire had already detected that it wouldn’t be wise to talk of Murtagh’s role in finding her, given that Jenny had been kept in the dark.  Jenny was clearly the family matriarch and watched over her younger brother with care.

Claire kept the conversation to discussion of Jenny’s children and Ellen whenever possible, knowing that any details of Paris needed to be kept to a minimum.  After a while, Jamie appeared carrying Ellen.

“Sassenach, I shoulda known ye were whisked away by Jenny”, he smiled.  “Come and join the party before Ellen runs out of steam.”

Claire returned to the noisy celebrations.  The whisky was flowing, there was music and dancing and the food was plentiful.  A traditional _Auld Lang Syne_ was sung, and some Robert Burns recited. After a while her energy levels sagged and she sat in a window seat with Murtagh, Ellen on her knee.

Murtagh placed a hand over hers: “Claire, I canna tell ye the difference ye’ve made in Jamie.  I’ve known the lad all his life and I was in Paris with him when he thought he’d lost ye forever.  I was afraid he’d never recover from the depression that created, but here he is laughing again.  The love he has for ye and this lass is more than I could have hoped for.”

“I was afraid I’d lost him too, Murtagh.  The world can be a very lonely place, especially when someone you love disappears without trace.  Thank you for not giving up on me.”  Claire lifted his hand to her lips and kissed it and Ellen, mimicking her mother, did the same.  Murtagh felt his heart melt.

Finally, Jamie looked over to see Ellen drifting off to sleep in Claire’s arms.  “Come along, Sassenach.  Let’s get the both of ye to the cottage for the night”, he said lifting Ellen up to his chest.

“Jamie, stay and enjoy your family”, Claire urged.

“That’s exactly what I’m doing.  Ye and Ellen _are my_ family and I mean to look after ye both”.  Jamie lifted Claire by the arm and bid the rest of the gathering a good night.  While he and Claire got Ellen to the cottage, Murtagh drove the car a little closer and opened the boot.  Soon they and all the luggage were in the cottage, where an open fire had been lit and the beds already made.

Claire placed Ellen in the double bed, sleeping next to her.  Jamie smoored the fire and slept in the lounge room, while Murtagh slept in the second bedroom.  They all fell asleep in moments and woke the next morning in 2008.

The adults were all feeling a bit under the weather, but Ellen was in fine form.  Claire breast fed her in bed and changed her into warm clothing.  She stoked the fire and placed the fire guard in front of the hearth, then moved to the kitchen to prepare some coffee and breakfast for everyone.  Ellen was sitting on the floor talking nonsense to her teddy, but soon became restless.  She called out for “Mama”, but before Claire was able to respond she pulled herself up on a chair and called out to Jamie, who had one eye open: “Da! Da!”

Claire was watching with excitement as wee Ellen called out “Da!” a third time and then took her first three steps from the chair, landing on a delighted Jamie.  Jamie was wearing a thrilled smile as Claire clapped her hands and squealed.

“Did ye see that Sassenach?  Three steps to her _Da?_ She called me _Da!_ ”  If Jamie had smiled any more his face would have exploded.

Claire raced across the room and embraced them both.

“It’s going to be a good year, my two lovelies”, she said kissing them both.  “How often did you train her to say ‘Da’, Jamie?”

“Whenever ye were out of hearing range”, Jamie replied proudly.

“Thank God you found us Jamie”, Claire whispered.

“Thank God and Murtagh”, he replied.

A grumpy looking Murtagh emerged, wrapped in a blanket: “Ye can thank me by making me my own pot of coffee.”

 


	16. Aunty Jenny (March 2008)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I may fit in one more chapter in addition to this before the end of Droughtlander. Hooray!
> 
> A quieter chapter, but still important to the story.
> 
> My dear beta (@thebrochtuarachs) is still on holiday, so any and all errors have my name all over them. Thanks to @artistsassenach for the image of Claire and Jamie.

 

Jamie and Claire had settled into their lives in Glasgow over a period of three months.  Jamie was in awe of how quickly Claire picked up modern language, technology and life in the 21st century.  She had even enrolled in an online nursing course through the University of Glasgow, allowing her to care for Ellen and use the University facilities.  She was a sponge when it came to developing knowledge of modern medical procedures, and a fount of knowledge of older remedies.

 

Rupert was helping with her development of information technology expertise and Jamie had bought her a laptop computer of her own.  Jamie warned her that her choice language when learning new software would soon be picked up by Ellen, who had developed into a little parrot.  Nothing amused him more than hearing her exclaim “A Dhia!” when she couldn’t get her own way.

  
The family solicitor, Ned Gowan, was working on gaining recognition of Claire and Ellen as citizens.  The paperwork was onerous but necessary and Ned assured them he was on top of it all, although it would take a long time.

  
Ellen was now walking confidently, and adjustments were made to the apartment to keep her (and their belongings) safe.

  
As Easter approached, Jenny came to stay.  Ian had agreed to take care of the Lallybroch Murray family for a few days while she came to Glasgow to do shopping, go to the theatre with friends and visit Jamie and Claire. Jamie was preparing for an influx of tourists for the holidays, so Jenny would keep Claire company during the day.

  
On the second morning of Jenny’s visit, Claire had to pull out of their planned shopping trip.  She was experiencing headaches, back pain, and dizziness. Jenny headed off with a shopping list and her credit card.  When she returned, she sat drinking tea with Claire and handed her a small bag.

  
“What’s this, Jenny?”, asked Claire.

  
“Take it to the bathroom and follow the instructions, Claire”, Jenny replied.

  
Claire opened the bag and looked at the box inside.  “A pregnancy test kit? Oh, I don’t think so Jenny. I’m just tired.”

  
“Well, I’ve bought it so ye might as well use it.  If ye’re no’ pregnant ye’ll know to have a blood test for iron or whatever”.

  
If there was one thing Claire had learned soon after meeting Jenny, it was that she was persistent.  She could comply, or she could be subjected to endless cajoling and _then_ comply, so she headed into the bathroom.  Jenny was hovering outside the door, pacing to and fro impatiently.  When Claire emerged, she was waiting:

  
“Well?  Are ye?”, Jenny urged her excitedly.

  
“As soon as my pee hit the stick, there were two dark lines.  I don’t believe it. I’m pregnant!”, Claire said looking shocked.

  
Claire may have been hesitant, but Jenny was dancing around the room with excitement.  “I canna wait to see Jamie’s face! Another little Fraser! Oh Claire, I’m going to be an aunty again.  Ring him now … please!”

  
Claire called Jamie at the distillery and asked if he was coming home for lunch.

  
“Aye Sassenach.  Are ye alright? Is Ellen OK?”

  
“Oh yes, everything’s fine Jamie.  Jenny’s here too. We’ll see you soon.”

  
About an hour later, Jamie appeared.  Jenny was bursting to tell him.

   
“Tell him, Claire”, Jenny urged.

  
“Tell me what?”, Jamie asked looking puzzled.

  
Claire was a bit hesitant.  “Well, Jenny went to the chemist this morning and when she got back she thought I should …”

  
“Just tell him”, said Jenny impatiently.

  
“I’m pregnant Jamie”, Claire said looking at him nervously.

  
“Isn’t it wonderful!”, Jenny exclaimed.  “And I was here when she found out. I knew it!  I could tell!”   
After his initial surprise, Jamie hugged Claire to his chest.  “ _Mo chride,_ I couldna be happier.  How long?”

  
“I don’t know yet, Jamie.  I’ve been so busy, and I only recently stopped feeding Ellen.  I’m guessing I must be at least 3 or 4 weeks pregnant or the test wouldn’t have been so clear.  I suppose I might be due in November or December”. Claire still looked stunned as she spoke.

  
“Wee Ellen will be nearly 2 by then.  Is that a good time, Jenny?”, he asked his sister.

  
“There’s no easy time, Jamie.  Ye’ll be fine. Ian and I have done this four times and we’re still alive”, Jenny smiled.

  
“I need to sit down”, Jamie said.  “I wasna ready, but I’m verra happy about it.  When might we find out if it’s a boy or a girl?”

  
“Not for months yet, if ye choose to know.  I kept that as a final surprise for all my bairns”, Jenny told him.

 

Jenny reached into one of her numerous shopping bags.  “I was so confident, I bought a bottle of champagne to celebrate”.  She popped the cork and filled three glasses. “Slàinte mhath!”, they said in unison as their glasses clinked.

  
When Jenny had gone out for the evening, and Ellen was asleep, Jamie and Claire sat together on the couch, Jamie’s arm around her shoulder and her head resting on his chest.

   
“What are ye thinking, Sassenach?”, asked Jamie.

  
“A million things are going through my head, including that I won’t be able to come back to Paris with you to see John.  I’d like to be there when he finds out this old lady is pregnant again”, she smiled.

  
Jamie held her close.  “I’m verra happy to have my old lady here, and that she’s pregnant.  How are ye feeling about it, Claire?”

  
“Excited, nervous, happy, a bit frightened, thankful – you name it.  But most of all, I’m happy that you’ll be here to see your child when he or she is born, to watch him or her grow from day one.  You missed that with Ellen and I don’t want you to miss a moment with this little one.”

  
“Well, it seems likely that ye’ll have the baby before I leave to see John.  Aunty Jenny will be happy to be here with ye for a few days while I’m gone. She’s been nagging me for Fraser heirs for long enough and she enjoys spending time with ye, Claire”, Jamie said kissing her forehead.

  
“She does seem to have accepted me and she doesn’t ask about our time apart any more - well, not much”, Claire responded.

  
“She kens we’re happy and that’s the most important thing.  She’s seen me unhappy often enough. She knows ye’re the reason I’m content, Claire.  She likes yer attitude to life and yer determination. She’s your family too, ye ken. Is it too early to say ye’ve found yer happy ever after?” he asked.

  
“My happy ever after began when I opened that door in Paris and you were standing there Jamie.  Life is just getting better every day”, Claire said kissing him.

  
“”Twas the same for me”, Jamie laughed. ****  
****  
**  
**


	17. The past can catch up with ye

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A new arrival and an interesting visitor from the past.
> 
> My beta for this story (@thebrochtuarachs) is still on holiday, so if you find any glaring errors I take full responsibility.
> 
> Again, my thanks @artistsassenach for the wonderful image of Jamie/Sam with the baby. The image of Claire/Caitriona is from a Twitter account - I think this is the most beautiful image I have ever seen of her. Starz certainly hit the jackpot when they finally signed her for the role of Claire.

Claire’s pregnancy progressed without problems.  Her regular checkups and scans revealed a healthy foetus.  She did declare that she felt like a penguin by the sixth month, but her due date was at the end of November.  She had two months to go.

  
She was preparing lunch for Ellen one day in September when the phone rang and Jamie asked her to bring Ellen down to the distillery.

   
“I suppose I can manage to waddle down, Jamie.  You can’t come up here?”, she asked.

  
“We have a visitor who can’t make it up the stairs, Claire”, Jamie replied.

  
“Alright.  I’ll be down in the next few minutes”.  Claire called to Ellen, who came running when she realised she was going to “Da’s work”.  The two of them walked into the distillery office to see Jamie talking to someone in a wheelchair.

    
The man was sitting with his back to Claire.  As she approached she could see he was very old, with age spots visible on his hands, thin grey hair and thick glasses. Then he spoke.  “Hallo, my darling wife.  How are you Claire?”

  
That voice. Claire immediately realised who it was: “John!  Oh John, what a wonderful surprise.  I can’t believe it’s you!”

  
“I have no idea how this time travel stuff works, Claire, but when I made it to 2008 I thought I should look for you.  It didn’t take long to find you, but at the grand old age of 96 I thought I shouldn’t leave it too much longer.  I would have come earlier in the year, but my health was a bit dodgy.”

  
While Jamie organised food and drinks, Claire sat holding John’s hand.  Ellen was fascinated by his wheelchair and sat on his lap.

    
“John, how has your life been?  Have you been happy?”, Claire asked.

  
“Well, ups and downs of course, but yes – all in all, my life has been good.”

  
Jamie returned in time to hear about John’s life since they last met in 1947.

  
“A few years after you two left, I met a wonderful man – Robert.  Of course, we had to be very cautious.  We couldn’t live together for years, so we maintained separate apartments, but our relationship was exclusive.  I can’t tell you how fulfilling it was to share my life with a person I truly loved and who loved me – anyway, you two know about that.  We saw the introduction of decriminalisation of homosexuality and were heavily involved in the fight for same sex marriage.  I felt a sense of optimism after you told me it was possible, Jamie.  Sadly, we couldn’t marry by the time Robert died three years ago but we had been together for more than 50 years.”

  
“You must miss him terribly, John”, Claire said kissing John on the cheek.

  
“Absolutely.  But I consider myself lucky to have had so many amazing years with him.  In fact, that’s one reason I’m here.  I know now that staying in my own time was the right thing to do.  If I had left, I would never have met Robert, never have had those years with him.  I know my time will end before too long, but I will die a happy man after the life I’ve lived.  I also know that if Jamie hadn’t come back for you, I might never have realised the danger I was in until it was too late.  Life has strange ways of leading you to your destiny, and you two helped me to find mine.”  John held Claire’s hand up to his lips and kissed it.

  
“And I don’t need to ask what you’ve been doing!” added John.  “A little brother or sister for Ellen on the way, obviously.”

  
“Aye, so much for Frank telling Claire she was infertile eh?”, laughed Jamie.

  
The three of them shared the afternoon together, happy in the company and in knowing what had passed since they last met.  John produced some early Christmas presents for Ellen, which kept her enthralled.  Eventually, John was looking very tired.

  
“I’m booked into a swish hotel suite in Glasgow for tonight.  I wonder if you might join me for breakfast in the restaurant tomorrow morning, as my driver will be taking me back to London tomorrow”

.  
“So soon?”, Jamie asked.

  
“At my advanced age, the best place is home.  Frankly, I’m exhausted but delighted to have seen you both again.  The two of you changed my life in so many ways, all of them good.  Good people can wander into your life for reasons we fail to see at the time”, John smiled.

  
“You were very much that good person for me, John.  I can’t ever thank you enough for giving me and Ellen a home at a desperately lonely and difficult time”, Claire said as a few tears fell down her cheeks.  She hugged John as he too shed tears.

  
Jamie helped John’s driver transfer John to the car.  They set a time for breakfast the next morning and waved farewell as John drove away.

  
The following morning, Jamie and Claire left Ellen with Murtagh and joined John for breakfast.  They were all painfully aware that this was likely to be the last time they would see one another, and John was overcome when Jamie told him that they would name their child John if it were a boy.  When John left for London it was an emotional farewell.

   
“How fortunate was I to have met John when I did, Jamie?”, said Claire reaching out for Jamie’s hand.

  
“A wonderful man”, agreed Jamie.

  
It was a glorious day when Claire gave birth to their much-loved son and they named him John Alexander Murtagh Mackenzie Fraser.  Jamie rang John in London to let him know of his namesake and Claire laughed when a huge bouquet arrived the next day with a simple message from John _: “Such good taste”._

   
Jamie took a phone call a few days later to let them know that Lord John had passed away in his sleep.  “I’m glad he knew about our wee John before he died”, Jamie told an emotional Claire.

  
Over the following two weeks, Jenny came to help with the care of John and Ellen.  Claire had cemented her place in Fraser family history by providing two children and Ned Gowan brought them the happy news that Claire and Ellen were now accepted as citizens.  It meant Claire could now officially become Jamie’s wife.

  
On the last day of her visit, Jenny joined Murtagh as a witness at the registry office wedding of Jamie and Claire.

  
“Are ye sure ye dinna want a big church wedding, Claire?”, Jamie asked.  
“Jamie, I don’t need a big expensive wedding, I just need to be married to you”, she replied.

  
“Aye, well it would be fair to say that we could do without the expense with the financial crisis taking hold.  I’ll take ye on a honeymoon to Paris when we can get away.  A trip down memory lane eh?”

  
“That sounds perfect”, she said kissing him and playing with the wedding ring he had designed for her months before.

  
On the day of Ellen’s second birthday, Claire took her shopping as a special treat.  Jamie stayed in their apartment with baby John and received an unusual phone call.

  
“Good afternoon am I speaking to Mr James Fraser?”

  
“Aye, that’s me.  To whom am I speaking?”, Jamie asked.

  
“My name is Stephen Cameron and I am a partner at Bonnet and Cameron, Commercial Solicitors in London.  I would like to make a time to speak to you and Mrs Fraser as soon as possible, Mr Fraser”.

  
“Ye wish us to come to London?”, Jamie asked.

  
“No, Mr Fraser.  I will come to you.  I have strict instructions from my client as to how this is to be handled.  Would tomorrow afternoon be too soon?  I can drive up early tomorrow morning.”

  
“May I ask what this is about?”, Jamie asked feeling concerned.

  
“It is a complex matter.  I will be able to give you the full details tomorrow, if that is convenient”, Stephen replied.

  
“Aye, alright.  Is 3pm suitable?  Our lad usually sleeps about that time.”

  
“Yes, Mr Fraser.  I will ring about 15 minutes before I arrive at the distillery.  Thank you”.

  
Jamie’s mind was running at a mile a minute.  Only he knew that the downturn in business had meant he hadn’t been able to make the full repayments on the loan from Dunsany Investments for the past two months.  He had spoken to Isobel about their financial situation and a possible refinancing of the loan but knew that Geneva would be delighted to encourage a foreclosure on his business.  He was sure she would consider that revenge as sweet. They could lose the Glasgow distillery and their home.

    
When Ellen’s birthday party was over, the cake demolished, and the presents packed into her bedroom, Jamie told Claire that they were to meet with a solicitor the following afternoon.

  
“What’s it all about, Jamie?”, Claire asked.

  
“I’ve no idea.  He was quite secretive.  Said we’d find out tomorrow”, a nervous Jamie replied.  He was hoping the news would not be as bad as he feared.

 


	18. Karma

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Claire and Jamie are visited by a solicitor. Jamie is concerned that the visit may be related to a debt he is unable to pay to Dunsany Investments.

 

Jamie spent that night and the following morning worrying about Stephen Cameron’s visit.  The solicitor had been vague about the purpose of his visit, leaving Jamie concerned for what might be discussed.  

 

When Stephen Cameron arrived, he brought with him three parcels and a pile of documents. Baby John was fast asleep, and Ellen was watching children’s TV with Murtagh. Claire had prepared coffee, biscuits and small cakes for their meeting, but Mr Cameron was more interested in getting down to business

.  
Stephen arranged the documents into several piles on the study table and sat facing Jamie and Claire.  He clearly had a checklist in front of him and, pen in hand, he proceeded to explain his visit.

  
“Mr and Mrs Fraser, as I explained I am a partner with Bonnet and Cameron.  My client insisted I come to you to explain these proceedings and to answer any questions you might have.  Please feel free to ask any questions as I work through my checklist.”   
Jamie squirmed in his chair.  Cameron was sounding very serious and he was feeling increasingly uncomfortable.

  
“Please, refer to us as Jamie and Claire”, Claire asked.

  
“Thank you”, the solicitor smiled.  “I am here as the executor of the will and administrator of the deceased estate of Lord John Grey.  As commercial solicitors, we have worked with Lord John for many years as his personal and business solicitors.  As beneficiaries of Lord John’s will, I am required to work through the provisions of that will which relate to you.”

  
Claire and Jamie looked at one another with surprise.  Jamie’s furrowed brow began to relax when he realised Stephen Cameron was not there as a representative of Dunsany Investments.

  
Stephen moved the first pile of papers closer to himself.  “First, I would like to address the issue of the trust funds created for your two children, Ellen Brianna and John Alexander Murtagh Mackenzie Fraser.  Cameron looked up at them with a smile: “Good Scottish name for the lad”.   
Claire gasped: “John set up trust funds for both the children?  I had no idea”, she exclaimed.

  
“Yes”, Cameron responded.  “The trust for Ellen was set up some years ago and the original sum of £500,000 has already accumulated earnings of £36,890.  The trust for John was set up soon after his birth and is also for £500,000. Both trusts are being managed by our financial managers, who will keep you informed of their investment strategy and earnings.”

  
“That was remarkably generous of John.  I canna believe it!”, Jamie said looking at Claire and then Stephen Cameron.

  
“Actually, that is in addition to the £50,000 John has placed in an education fund for each of the children”, Stephen added. “And there is also an education fund for you, Claire, specifically to pursue your wish to study medicine.  It is in the amount of £150,000. I will give you the paperwork when we have worked our way through the other provisions of the will.”

  
“There’s more?”, Claire said in disbelief.

  
“Oh yes, quite a bit actually.  That’s why Lord John wanted me to speak to you in person.”

  
Jamie looked at Stephen.  “I think I might be needing a bit more than coffee, Mr Cameron.  Can I interest ye in a dram?”

  
“No thank you, Jamie.  Maybe when we’ve finished”, Stephen replied.

  
Stephen moved the first pile of documents to one side and pulled a second set of papers closer to his seat.  “Now, we have the issue of the three parcels I’ve brought for you today. Claire, the first parcel – the largest of the three - is for you.  As you can see, it is very carefully wrapped and fragile. Lord John gave strict instructions of how this should be opened. If I may?” he said taking a retractable box cutter and a pair of white gloves from his briefcase.

  
Stephen Cameron approached the parcel like a surgeon might prepare to cut open a patient.  Claire sat forward on her chair in keen anticipation. Inside the external wrapping was a box with a hinge opening, and when the box was opened a painting was revealed.   _Amethyst_ by Tamara de Lempicka.  Both Claire and Jamie gasped when it was revealed.

  
“Tamara’s painting of …”, Claire almost said “me”.  “Oh, that is wonderful. It must be so valuable.”

  
“Indeed, it is Claire”, Cameron replied as he closed the box.  “I would suggest you store it in a secure location until you are able to have it valued and insured.  The last valuation was done some years ago. She was a remarkable artist and her work has increased significantly in value since she died in 1980.”

  
“Now, Jamie.  The other parcels are for you.”  

 

Cameron laid a long parcel on the table and with great care opened the box.  “This, Mr Fraser, is a Preston Blunderbus - A rare trophy brass blunderbus barrell circa 1690 57cm (22.5 inch) barrel 96.5cm (38 inches) overall – the details are included on the box”.  He then opened the last parcel: “And this a Scottish basket hilted broadsword circa 1730 blade 96cm (35 inches) long. Lord John asked me to tell you that both items were purchased by him at an antique auction years ago.  It’s said they were used at the Battle of Prestonpans and Culloden, reputedly by a character known as Red Jamie. They too are very valuable and will need to be valued and insured.”

  
Jamie looked on in amazement.  He had seen such things in museums, but to own such valuable historic items had only ever been a dream.

  
“Now, the final item on my checklist”, Cameron said.

  
“There’s even more?”, gasped Claire.

  
“In this folder are documents from the French Land Registry relating to a property owned by Lord John in Paris.  I understand it’s an Art Deco apartment building in an up-market area. The property includes sixteen large apartments, all of which are rented out with the exception of one.  I understand from my partner that the unoccupied apartment was once the Paris home of Lord John and his wife, who went to America and disappeared without trace. He vowed he would never live there with anyone else.  It still contains the furniture that was there on the day she left and has been cleaned monthly for over 60 years, but not lived in.”

  
Claire felt a slight pain in her chest, and tears came to her eyes.   
“The building now belongs to you both.  There are net earnings of €3,900 a week, about £3,450.  As you technically inherited this building 3 weeks ago, here is a cheque for £10,350.  From this point on a monthly rent of £14,950 will be paid directly into your bank account.  I will collect the bank details from you in due course. If you wish to rent out the empty apartment, I can make arrangements on your behalf.”

  
“No, thank you”, Claire replied immediately.  “I would like to keep that apartment as it is and use it as a holiday destination for our family.  I would like that very much.” She looked at Jamie, who smiled and nodded in agreement.

  
“Well, our business is done, Claire and Jamie.  All that remains is to give you a letter John wrote to you quite recently, Claire.”  Cameron handed over the letter, while Jamie poured a dram for each of them. While the two men drank their whisky, Claire disappeared into the bedroom and opened John’s letter.

  
_My dearest Claire,_

 _  
_ _If you are reading this, you will be aware that I have died.  Do not be sad at this, for I have led a wonderful life made even more perfect by my marriage to you._

 _  
_ _I’m not sure you were fully aware, at the time we met and married, how very lonely I was.  Tamara and the Baron were astute enough to see us as a couple who could provide one another with the care and support we were both in need of.  Little did they know the impact you were to have on my life. In you, I found someone who accepted me for who I was, who did not see a problem with my sexual preferences and who became one of the best friends I ever had.  You also showed me what it is to be a mother who loves her child unconditionally. As someone who spent most of their early years with a series of nannies, this was a revelation. You were the most significant woman in my life._

 _  
_ _Our time together may have been short but that does not reduce its significance.  For through you I also met Jamie, who assured me that the situation would improve for me and other homosexuals when I had practically given up hope.  He also saved me from a situation I prefer not to dwell on, that is a spell in prison as prey for some unsavoury characters. Serendipity._

 _  
_ _When you both left I was lonely for a while, but I was more optimistic about what the future might hold. Ironically, my foray into America to cover for you and Ellen made me ridiculously rich and led me to meeting the love of my life.  When I met Robert, I was ready for an open and honest relationship with someone I could truly love. I believe you helped me prepare for that._

 _  
_ _I have given instructions to my solicitor to deliver this note in person.  The gifts I have left to you and your family reflect the deep value I placed on our relationship, albeit brief.  My wish above all is that you and your family be happy._

  
_With my love_ _  
_ John

 _  
_ _P.S. Tamara kept ‘Amethyst’ for years, but I finally persuaded her to sell it to me. She was the only person who knew the truth about your disappearance.  I suspect she thought I’d gone mad._

 _  
_ Claire wept for some minutes.  Her emotions were raw as she recalled how John came into her life and the impact he had even in death.  She had lost a very special and wonderful friend.

  
A red-eyed Claire joined Jamie and Stephen in the study.  Stephen was preparing to leave when he turned and looked at Claire and Jamie, standing with their arms around one another.

  
“Just a final comment, an observation if you like, from my perspective.  Lord John was a very wealthy man and he left significant amounts to charities, former employees and the like.  However, you were the beneficiaries he put the most thought into. Your gifts were very personal, while others received cheques.  I can only assume you had a very close relationship with him.”

  
“Yes, very close”, Claire responded.


	19. Déjà vu

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The penultimate chapter.
> 
> Jamie and Claire go back to the apartment in Paris.
> 
> Thanks again to @artistsassenach for the use of a manipulated image of Jamie/Sam and Claire/Caitriona.
> 
> @thebrochtuarachs is still on holiday, so any errors lay at my feet.

 

 

After Stephen Cameron left to return to London, Claire and Jamie spent the rest of the day reflecting on the extent of John’s generosity.  When the two children were asleep, Claire handed Jamie the letter John had left for her.

  
Jamie read it several times and shed a few tears at its contents.  “That is truly beautiful, Claire. I canna believe we were fortunate enough to befriend such an incredible man.”

  
“Why do you think he left the apartment empty, Jamie?”, Claire asked.

  
“I think that, and the contents of this letter, show how much John loved ye Claire.  Not in the way I love ye, of course, but love nevertheless.  I dinna think ye realise what an impact ye have on people Claire.  It’s no’ just your beauty, you light up a room when ye enter it.  Ye’re strong, clever, brave and loyal and when ye shine yer light on a person ye make them feel special.  Rupert once told me I was the luckiest bastard on earth, and I agreed with him.  I told him I was totally under yer spell and happy to be there.”

  
Claire moved closer to Jamie and embraced him. “Thank you, Jamie. That’s sweet. I was sad to leave John, but I never doubted my love for you.  You, Ellen and John are my world”, Claire said kissing him on the cheek.

 

“Claire, I never told ye but I was afraid Stephen Cameron was coming to foreclose on the mortgage for the distillery.  The financial crisis left us short of funds to pay off the loan.  The income from the apartments will save us from losing this place”, he told her as he looked around at their home.

  
“Jamie, you should have told me.  We could have sold the Picasso to prevent that”, Claire told him.

  
“No, ye canna sell that.  It’s part of who you are, and where ye came from. I didna want to worry ye, Sassenach.  Ye have enough with the two bairns.  John came to the rescue again and I canna be thankful enough.”

  
“Anyway, now we also have our own apartment in Paris for that holiday you promised me, Mr Fraser”, Claire smiled.

  
“Aye, how strange will that be?  Seeing the apartment where we were reunited, looking just as it did that day you fainted in my arms”, Jamie mused.  He kissed Claire on the forehead: “I canna wait to return to that bed so ye can be my Nurse Beauchamp again.  Sassenach, that memory is permanently etched in my memory!”

  
“Hmm, and I can have another massage in that bed.  I’ll never forget that either Jamie”, she laughed.

  
“Ye can have a massage right now if ye’re really in need, Mrs Fraser”, said Jamie tickling her.

  
“Well, I’m certainly in need Mr Fraser, and we do have an awful lot to celebrate eh?”, said Claire as she jumped up and ran towards the bedroom with Jamie in pursuit.  

Massages had become a speciality of Jamie’s since those first few days when they had reunited in Paris.  Jamie would work his way from her toes up, massaging and kissing her.  He was an expert on her erogenous zones and would get enjoyment from her groans and sounds of excitement.  Soon he was covering her with his body and she gasped as he slowly entered her, teasing her by withdrawing and then thrusting back into her.  Her muffled gasps accompanied each withdrawal and re-entry until she felt him fill her.  They lay there for a moment, savouring each other’s warm bodies.

 

“Ye still excite me, as if it were the first time I’d lain with ye, Sassenach”, Jamie whispered in her ear.

 

“Same for me - since 1946”, she sighed.

 

They fell asleep in one another’s arms.

 

\---------------

In the next week, Jamie arranged for valuers to inspect the painting and weapons Lord John had bequeathed to them.  Both he and Claire were rendered speechless by the value of Tamara’s painting (millions of pounds) and the combined value of the weapons.  Jamie decided to make them features of the tourism business and increase the security of the distillery.

\---------------  
It was Spring by the time the Fraser family made it to Paris.  When the taxi from the airport dropped them, their children and their bags at the apartment building, Jamie and Claire were excited to see a part of their past.  They opened the door to the apartment with the key Stephen Cameron had provided and peeked inside.  It was quite dark, so they entered and opened the curtains to let the sun shine in.

    
“This is déjà vu”, Claire said looking around.  “It really is just as I remember it.  I feel like I’ve returned to my previous life.”

  
Claire went to the room in which Ellen had slept as a baby.  The cot was still in the same position, and when she opened the cupboard doors, she found the piles of linen for it and the single bed.  She moved on to her old bedroom and instantly recalled images of her and Jamie when they were reunited in lust on the bed.  Then she heard a call from Jamie:

 

“Claire, come in here.”

  
“Where are you?”, she called out.

  
“In John’s room”, he replied.

  
When she entered John’s room, Jamie was standing in front of his wardrobe with the doors wide open.  The large doors were lined with photographs: Claire with Pablo Picasso, both Claire and John with Tamara and the Baron, the day of their wedding, the newborn Ellen being held by Claire and John, photos of Ellen and Claire playing in the garden in London, Claire and Ellen on the ferry from Calais to Dover, Claire and John at numerous social functions.  It was a pictorial history of their brief time together.

  
“Jamie, this must be every photograph from the time I was with John”, Claire gasped.  The banner above the collection read: “Me and my girls”.

    
There were few clothes in the wardrobe: the suit John wore on the day they married, the Dior gown Claire wore that day, the coat and hat he was wearing on the day Claire and Jamie left, and the dressing gown he wore if he rose to a tearful Ellen in the night.

  
“I very rarely came into John’s room”, Claire told Jamie.  “I felt it was somehow an invasion of his privacy.  I had no idea he had all these memories here.”

  
Jamie’s arm reached around her back and squeezed her.  “Yer time together was very precious to John.  This is the second time I’ve felt a twinge of jealousy, Claire.  I envy him for having been here to take care of ye when I wasna able or aware.  You were certainly in safe hands.”

  
As they stood looking at the photos, Ellen ran into the room and tugged on Jamie’s trousers.  “Da! Toys.”  She grabbed Jamie’s hand and led him to a cupboard in the living room.  Neatly stacked on the shelves were all the toys Ellen had as a baby.  A teddy bear, a stuffed elephant, rattles, her play mat, old cloth books and boxes of small items.  “Mine, no’ John’s”, she announced defiantly.

  
“Aye, they are yours Ellen”, Jamie smiled. “Can John play with them tho’?”

  
“A Dhia.  No!”, Ellen exclaimed with her hands on her hips.

  
Claire snorted with laughter at her daughter, until Jamie reminded her that was exactly what she looked like when she was telling him off.

  
There was no food in the apartment, so Claire belted John into his pusher and Jamie carried Ellen as they sauntered around the streets of Paris and found a café where they could eat and a patisserie and small grocery store to stock up on essentials.

    
As they returned to the apartment building, Jamie stopped and sat on the park bench facing the building. Claire sat next to him.

 

“I sat here for nearly half an hour waiting for John to leave so I could come up to see ye after all that time apart, and to meet Ellen for the first time”, he told her.  “What I wouldn’t give to see John walk out of that building now so I could thank him for all he’s done for us, Sassenach.”

“Me too”, said Claire. “I sometimes wish we could have come back and taken him into the 21st century.  I’m so glad he visited us before he died so we could hear for ourselves how happy he had been with Robert, and he could see how happy we are.”

 

“Claire, can I ask you something?”, Jamie said placing his arm around her shoulder.

“What Jamie?”, she replied.

 

“Could we reenact Nurse Beauchamp tonight?”

 

“I don’t have a nurse uniform”, she laughed.

 

“Ye didn’t last time either”, Jamie smiled.  
  


 


	20. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is the final chapter of 'Head of A Woman'. I survived my first fic! I hope you've enjoyed reading as much as I've enjoyed writing.
> 
> I have just uploaded the first chapter of a new fic, 'La Feuillee': https://archiveofourown.org/works/16608356/chapters/38927216
> 
> Another fic of mine is 'A Safe Place': https://archiveofourown.org/works/16478006/chapters/38589959
> 
> Hope you're all enjoying Season 4 of Outlander.

 

**Chapter 20 - Epilogue**

**  
** **December 2017**

 **  
** The Fraser household was a busy and happy place.

   
Dr Claire Fraser was busy decorating the Christmas tree with Ellen, who had just changed out of her school uniform and begun her Christmas holidays.  John had told them he was going to the distillery to “help Da”, which they knew meant that he was playing on the iPad while Jamie counted the day’s takings.

  
Murtagh was now a “silent partner” in the business, but tonight was one of the many nights he would join them for dinner.  He had been active with Jamie in setting up a new attraction at the distillery, a display on Scottish history which included Jamie’s blunderbuss and broadsword – gifts from Lord John – and other Scottish weaponry.  

 

A new installation included original drawings and furniture designed by four young friends who had trained at Glasgow School of Art: two architects and two artists – Charles Rennie Mackintosh, Herbert MacNair, Margaret Macdonald and Frances Macdonald – who were simply known by their friends and contemporaries as ‘The Four’. A separate room was set up to display “Amethyst”.  The attractions had broadened the appeal of the distillery and increased the number of visitors significantly.

  
John’s education trust had allowed Claire to complete a degree in Medicine and Surgery and go on to specialise in reproductive medicine.  She was developing a strong reputation for helping same sex couples wanting to have children, and Stephen Cameron had set aside funds from the charitable grants from John Grey’s estate to help her set up an IVF centre.  She felt sure John would have approved.

   
The Frasers planned to spend Christmas at home but would drive up to Lallybroch for Hogmanay with Murtagh, the Murrays and extended family.  Once more, Jenny would do her best to find out how Jamie and Claire met and how they became separated – and once more she would fail.

 

The apartment in Paris became a favourite escape for Jamie and Claire.  Whenever they visited they would stroll around the places of significance in their past - the hotel where Claire had been working when they met, the artist studio where Claire sat for Tamara (which had since become a gallery for emergent artists) and the area where Jamie was stabbed.

 

They changed very little about the Paris apartment.  They would have it cleaned regularly, as John did, but they enjoyed the ‘time warp’.  It served as a constant reminder of Lord John and his importance in their lives.

 

**Ellen’s 21st birthday**

 

When Claire asked Ellen what she wanted for her 21st birthday, the response was immediate.

 

“I want to go to Paris with you, Mama.  Da and John can do their boy things while we’re gone.  It won’t be long before I’m off travelling and living independently, so I’d like to share some time with you in my favourite place”, Ellen told her.

 

“I’d love that”, Claire agreed.

 

On their second day in Paris, they were walking along arm in arm.  As they approached the Hotel Regina Louvre, Ellen stopped to take a photograph on her phone.

 

“I’ve always loved that hotel, Mama.  It has a special place in my heart”, Ellen told her.

 

Claire replied with a pensive smile.  “It should. It’s where you were conceived.”

 

“You never told me that before Mama!  You dark horse. Neither you or Da have ever told me that.”  Ellen was both astonished and delighted that her romantic parents still held a few secrets.  

 

“We actually met in that Hotel.  I was working there as a hotel nurse.  I think we can safely say it was love at first sight, Ellen.”  Claire was looking wistful as she spoke.

 

“I’m not sure I believe in love at first sight Mama.  Are you sure it wasn’t _lust_ at first sight?”, Ellen teased.

 

“That too”, Claire laughed.  “Let’s go to the patisserie and grab some food for lunch.  We’ll go back to the apartment and I’ll tell you more.”

 

As they were eating, Claire told Ellen about that first night.  She talked of Bogart and Bacall, Edith Piaf and the jasmine scented gardens at the hotel.  She went on to tell her about Tamara de Lempicka and her role in introducing her to Lord John Grey, Jamie returning when she was less than a year old to meet her for the first time, how special Murtagh had been in their story and return to Scotland.  Ellen sat there enthralled.

 

“You haven’t said a word, Ellen.  Is it all too unbelievable?”, Claire asked her.

 

“Mama, strangely it isn’t.  I always knew your relationship with Da was somehow special and _different,_  but I guess I just assumed that it was that you two loved each other so much it was hardly normal.  Besides that, it’s so incredible I’m not sure you could make it up”, Ellen laughed.

 

“Come with me.  I want to show you something you haven’t seen before”, Claire told her as she took her hand and led to her to the room that they had always referred to as “John’s special place”.  It had always been off limits to her children, but now Claire opened the wardrobe doors and revealed the old photographs and clothes. They were still just as John had left them, if a little aged.

 

“That’s me with Pablo Picasso, me with Tamara and the Baron (her husband), you with John and I when you were a newborn baby …”  Claire worked her way through the photographs and clothes, explaining each of them to Ellen.

 

“So, _this_ is why Lord John left that education scholarship for me.  He was kind of a temporary father to me?”, Ellen looked surprised yet delighted.

 

“John was one of the most amazing friends I ever had.  He loved both of us, Ellen. I didn’t love John like I love your father, of course, but I did love him”, Claire told he as she shed a tear.

 

“And you knew Pablo Picasso?  That’s incredible!”, Ellen shrieked.

 

“The Picasso that hangs on the study wall in Glasgow is his drawing of me, Ellen.  I am _Head of A Woman._ ”

 

Then she added: “You can only speak to your Da and Murtagh about this.  Definitely **_not_ ** your Aunty Jenny.”

 

“Happy 81st birthday Ellen.”

  


**Therein lies the end of this tale.  I hope you’ve enjoyed reading it as much as I’ve enjoyed writing it.**

 

**Author's Note:**

> Edith Piaf's 'Je ne regrette rien': https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8YGXsw3XK9I


End file.
